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ONE EVENING IN THE WEEK THE JUNIORS WERE ALLOWED 
THE FREEDOM OF THE GYMNASIUM. 

The y. M. C. A. Boys of Cliffzi’ood 


Page 124 




7 



BOOKS FOR BOYS 

BY 

BROOKS HENDERLEY 

l2mo. Cloth. Illustrated. 

Price per volume, 6o cents, postpaid. 

f 

V THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS SERIES '' 


THE Y. M. C A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD; 
or The Struggle for the Holwell Prize 

THE Y. M. C A. BOYS ON BASS ISLAND; 
or The Mystery of Russabaga Camp 

{Other volumes in preparation) 


CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY 

Publishers New York 


Copyright^ 1916, by 
Cuppi.es & Leon Company 

The Y. M. C. A. Boys of Cliffwood 

JUN 10 1916 ' 

©CI.A431457 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 


PAGE 

I. 

Out with the Boys on Hallowe'en 

I 

II. 

A Scheme that Went Wrong 


9 

III. 

The Man Who Had Faith 


. iS 

IV. 

Some Wondereul News 


. 27 

V. 

Setting the Fox Trap 


. 36 

VI. 

Taking the Bait .... 


• 45 

VIL 

Organizing the Boys' Department 


. 54 

VIII. 

The Fighting Parson . 


• 63 

IX. 

In Self-Defense .... 


. 72 

X. 

Nat Enters the List . 


. 81 

XL 

How THE Plan Worked 


. 91 

XIL 

The Man Who Did Not Know Boys 

. 98 

XIII. 

Met on the Highway 


. 105 

XIV. 

Leslie on Guard 


. 113 

XV. 

Counter Currents in the “Gym” 


. 123 

XVI. 

The Night Alarm 


. 132 

XVII. 

At the Fire 



XVIII. 

The Daring Rescue 


. 147 

XIX. 

Hurrying Matters Along 


. 154 

XX. 

The Deacon Surrenders 

, 

. 162 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXL The Boys' Library 170 

XXII. Did Uncee Sieas' Ears Burn? . . 177 

XXIII. The Lure oe the Steee Runners . . 184 

XXIV. A Lesson in Lire Saving . . .192 

XXV. Dick Has a Seeect Audience . . .199 

XXVI. Bad News 207 

XXVII. What Happened on Christmas Eve . 215 

XXVIII. Uncee Sieas, the Wizard . . .223 

XXIX. The End oe the Struggee . . *231 

XXX. CoNCEUsioN 240 


THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS 
OF CLIFFWOOD 


CHAPTER I 

OUT WITH THE BOYS ON HALLOWE'EN 

“How's that, fellows?” 

“Everything's lovely, and the gate hangs high, 
not the goose !” 

“Mr. Philpot is going to have some climb, be- 
lieve me, before he gets it down out of that big 
oak, as sure as my name’s Dan Fenwick!” 

“And say, wouldn’t you like to see Farmer 
Hasty in the morning when he rubs his eyes and 
stares up at his wagon, all taken apart, and strung 
along the ridge pole of his barn roof?” 

“That was a cracking good idea of yours, Dick, 
and no mistake 1” 

“Hurrah for Hallowe’en, and all its fun!” 

“What’s next on the programme, boys? We’re 
out for a good time tonight, you know.” 

“It isn’t much after eleven at that. Who’s got 
another clever joke laid out?” 


1 


2 THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


“I have; and when you hear what the game is 
you’ll all say it’s the boss scheme of the lot, barring 
none.” 

‘‘Listen to Nat, will you? I wondered why he 
was lugging that bundle around with him all the 
evening. I guess it’s got something to do with 
his grand Hallowe’en prank.” 

“It has, and a whole lot, Peg Fosdick,” proudly 
admitted the boy upon whom all eyes were eagerly 
centered just then. 

“Who’s the victim, Nat?” demanded one fel- 
low, the same who had owned to the name of Dan 
Fenwick. 

“Who but that crusty old storekeeper, Jed 
Nocker,” said the big, overgrown boy with a 
chuckle of delight. “Everybody else seems to have 
just gone and clean forgotten all about him to- 
night.” 

At mention of this name all sorts of groans and 
catcalls arose from the group of seven lads stand- 
ing on a corner in a quiet, residential part of the 
usually bustling mill town of Cliffwood. 

“The meanest old codger in our town!” ex- 
claimed one fellow, in sheer disgust. 

“And he hates all boys worse than he does 
snakes 1” 

“Cuffed my ears more’n once, let me tell you, 
for some little thing I did in meeting.” 

“Oh! my mother says Deacon Nocker believes 


THE BOYS ON HALLOWE'EN 


3 


every boy is as chock full of original sin as an egg 
is of meat; and that the only way to get it out is 
to keep on whaling the boy.” 

“His pet saying is ‘spare the rod and spoil the 
child,’ IVe heard people say.” 

“Huh! all the same that kind of tactics didn’t 
keep the Deacon’s only boy from being wild,” 
chuckled Dan Fenwick, wickedly, as though it gave 
him considerable pleasure to remember that in 
this particular case guidance didn’t begin at home. 

“Oh I they say Amos always was a bad egg, and 
that the old deacon wrestled with him day after 
day. Then something came up, and Amos ran 
away. The deacon scratched his name off his 
books, and refused to send along a dollar, even 
when he heard Amos was married, and had a little 
boy of his own.” 

“Well, it was an oversight for us to let Jed 
Nocker off this Hallowe’en, when we always had 
him on our list,” admitted the boy the others had 
called Dick, and who, despite the fact that his 
clothes looked well worn, seemed to be something 
of a leader among his mates. 

“Then you agree to listen to my big scheme for 
giving him the scare of his life, do you, Dick 
Horner?” demanded Nat, eagerly. 

He very well knew that once Dick had stamped 
the idea O. K. the others would hasten to follow 
suit, because they had great faith in Dick’s abil- 


4 THE Y. M, C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


ity as a pilot, whether in baseball, on the gridiron, 
or in such rough-and-tumble sports as all town boys 
pursue so strenuously. 

“I want to hear it first,” replied Dick, cau- 
tiously, showing that he had a streak of discretion 
in his nature for all he was such a madcap. “Sup- 
pose we adjourn to the sand lot up the street. It’s 
more retired than this corner, and we can talk it 
over without any one running across us.” 

“A bright idea, Dick!” exclaimed another boy 
who had not as yet broken into the conversation. 
Leslie Capes was known as a fellow of few words, 
preferring to listen until he had mastered all the 
points of a discussion before giving his particular 
views. 

“Come along then, fellows,” urged the big, 
broad-shouldered Nat, eagerly, leading the way 
along the street; “and ten to one you’ll say my 
scheme is just the boss way to pay old Nocker back 
for all he’s done to the boys of Cliffwood.” 

While they are hurrying along toward the open 
sand lot spoken of, a few explanations regarding 
the fun-loving lads may not come in amiss, since 
these boys and others of the rising generation of 
Cliffwood are destined to figure largely in our 
story. 

Dick Horner was a clever young chap, though 
inclined to be headstrong and wild. He lived in 
an humble cottage home with his little sister Sue, 


THE BOYS ON HALLOWHEN 5 

his mother, a widow, and old ‘‘Grandpop*’ Hor- 
ner, a Civil War veteran, who had long been a 
striking figure in Cliffwood. The old soldier with 
his white locks down almost to his shoulders lived 
pretty much in the days of the dead and gone past, 
and could rarely talk without bringing up the times 
when he had fought so well. 

Pretty much all the Horners had to live upon 
consisted of the pension a generous government 
paid the veteran yearly in installments, and a small 
yearly sum from a meager investment in some in- 
dustrial stocks, so that Dick seldom saw anything 
like new clothes unless he earned the money him- 
self. 

Dan Fenwick and Leslie Capes were Dick’s two 
most intimate chums. The former was as full of 
the spirit of mischief as Dick himself, but when it 
came down to a question of leadership, both of 
them readily yielded the palm to Dick, whose will 
seemed to bend theirs. 

Leslie’s folks were comfortably well off. In 
addition to this there was an old indulgent uncle 
living with them, who could be prevailed upon to 
keep Leslie well supplied with funds, though the 
money always came accompanied with good ad- 
vice. Uncle Henry believed in boys. 

Peg Fosdick had once broken his leg, and ever 
since had walked with a slight limp. At home 
and in school he was called Oscar, but the tempta- 


6 THE Y, M, C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


tion to dub him “Peg” had proved so strong that 
long ago he had yielded to the inclination of his 
companions and readily answered to that nick- 
name. 

The other boys were Andy Hale and Elmer 
Jones, both of them just ordinary chaps without 
any remarkable traits of character. Both were 
good-natured fellows, ready for fun, or even a lit- 
tle row for a change, the type of boy you can al- 
ways run across by the dozen in any American 
town. 

Cliffwood was something of a manufacturing 
town, by virtue of the output of several mills that 
depended on the water power yielded by the lit- 
tle Sweetwater River. Half a mile above the town 
lay the rapids, with a fall of some fifteen feet or 
more. This natural advantage in power had 
caused the erection of the big Bartlett Paper Mills, 
and several other manufacturing establishments. 

Cliffwood, on this account, had more than its 
share of workers, who, as a rule, received fair 
wages, and were seemingly contented. 

Dick Horner looked forward to the time when 
he would be big enough to start to work and earn 
enough money to supply his dear mother with more 
of the comforts of life. He hated to be so poor, 
and this desire to do something for his mother was 
really one of the best things in the boy’s nature. 

Dick did not have so bad a reputation in the 


THE BOYS ON HALLOWE^EN 


7 


town as the big bully, Nat Silmore, but all the same 
the stories that drifted to the ears of his anxious 
mother often caused her gentle heart pain. Dick, 
upon being appealed to, always promised to turn 
over a new leaf, and then in the end his natural 
overflow of wild spirits led him into some new 
mischief, for which in turn he would be sorry. 

The vacant lot which Dick had in view was not 
far distant, so the seven boys out for Hallowe’en 
sport soon arrived there. Eager to hear what Nat 
had to say, the others clustered around the big fel- 
low. As a rule the others rather preferred Nat’s 
room to his company. 

‘‘Here we are waiting for you to give us the 
particulars of your grand stunt, Nat,” remarked 
Dan, impatiently tugging at the other’s sleeve. 

“Yes,” added Peg, “and the sooner you open up 
the quicker we can get busy; that is, of course, if 
we think it’s a good idea.” 

“Oh I I ain’t worrying myself about you back- 
ing out,” said Nat, with fine scorn. “I’ve done 
some big things in my time, and if I do say it my- 
self this takes the cake for boldness. We’ll pay 
the crusty old skinflint back for all the snappy 
things he’s done to the boys of Cliffwood.” 

“Get busy, Nat,” said Dick, shortly. 

Somehow these few words seemed to have more 
effect on Nat than all the urging of the other fel- 
lows. He knew Dick could veto the scheme if he 


8 THE F. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


felt inclined, and since his own cronies were de- 
barred from keeping him company on this one 
wild night of the year, by reason of sickness, and 
absence from town, Nat had to depend on Dick’s 
crowd for assistance in carrying out his plan. 

“All right, Dick, here goes then,” he hastened 
to say, as he started to unwrap the bundle he had 
been carrying around with him. “You can see just 
what I’ve toted along so as to be ready for busi- 
ness when the right time came.” 

“Why, it looks like a small drygoods store, I 
declare!” exclaimed Peg. 

“Old sheets, fellows,” announced Nat, triumph- 
antly. “D’ye know what they can be used for? 
Any of you ever play ghost in your lives ? Well, I 
have, and a sheet is always needed in the game.” 

“Go on and tell us what you aim to do with the 
old sheets, Nat!” urged Andy. 

“Just this,” then replied the other eagerly. 
“We can creep through the grounds of the empty 
Brandon place that lies next door to Jed’s prop- 
erty. We’ll find some way to get inside his house, 
and just when the town clock is striking midnight, 
we’ll start to groaning to beat the band, and show 
up before the old chap. Dick here, who can throw 
his voice so well, will do the talking, and tell him 
we’ve come from the land of spirits to take him 
back with us. There, what d’ye think of my 
scheme, fellows? Ain’t it a dandy?” 


CHAPTER II 


A SCHEME THAT WENT WRONG 

For a brief interval after Nat had so triumph- 
antly announced his grand scheme for frightening 
Old Deacon Nocker the other boys were still. Ap- 
parently, every one was digesting the idea, and 
coming to some sort of a mental decision. Dan 
Fenwick was the first to voice his views. 

“It strikes me as a cracking good prank, Natl’’ 
he exclaimed, “and I’m voting to help you carry 
the same out.” 

“Count me in for one of your old sheets, Natl” 
cried Peg, enthusiastically. 

“Dick, what do you say?” asked Leslie Capes, 
a little anxiously, as though he rather hoped the 
other would veto the whole business by declaring 
it was too silly, or too full of danger. 

If this was Leslie’s expectation, he was doomed 
to disappointment, for Dick immediately came out 
with a full endorsement of Nat’s proposal. 

“I go you, Nat,” he said, presently; “the scheme 
is worth trying out. Of course, if any fellow 
chooses to stand back and miss the fun, he’s at lib- 


10 THE Y. M.C. A. BOYS OF CLIFF WOOD 


erty to do it; but I’ll borrow one of your old 
sheets ; and I’ll do my level best to throw my voice 
so as to make it sound like it came up from the 
grave.” 

“Then we’re all in on the game, if you say so, 
Dick,” declared Andy Hale. 

“Ditto here!” echoed Elmer, feeling that the 
die was now cast; and no one had ever called him 
a quitter. 

“How about you, Leslie?” asked Nat, sneer- 
ingly, for he had noticed that the other seemed un- 
easy when the great scheme was first broached. 

“Who, me?” replied the Capes boy, scornfully. 
“Did any one ever know me to back down when 
my chums were in for a lark? I speak for another 
of the sheets, Nat.” 

“There, the clock struck the half hour,” inter- 
rupted Dick, “and if we want to be on deck at 
exactly midnight, we’d better get a hustle on.” 

“Come along fellows, we’ll chase out along the 
road here to the Brandon place, and climb the 
fence there. Say, I prowled around today and 
got my bearings all right.” 

It was not a great distance to the vacant Bran- 
don place, and the seven mischief-loving boys 
scrambled over the old fence with the greatest of 
ease. Nat did not seem really to need any lantern 
to show him the way, so well had he stamped the 
lay of the grounds on his memory. 


A SCHEME THAT WENT WRONG U 


Arriving at the dividing feace he vshowed the 
others where he had taken pains to pull off some 
boards, allowing a free passage to the adjoining 
grounds of the rich old storekeeper, who seemed 
to have such a poor opinion of all boys after his 
complete failure to bring his own son up by strict 
methods. 

“Look there, I can see lights in his house!’’ 
whispered Elmer. 

“Oh! that’s nothing unusual!” declared Dick; 
“they say the old man is awake all hours of the 
night, making up his accounts and reading. He 
puts on a bold front, but I reckon when he heard 
that his boy died away out West it hit him harder 
than he’ll ever own up.” 

“Still he’s as hard as nails,” grunted Dan. “My 
folks say he had a letter from the girl his son Amos 
married, telling him that she and her little boy 
were awful poor; and the old skinflint had the 
nerve to get Lawyer Bodgkin here to write that if 
she sent the kid on he’d agree to stand for his 
education, but that he’d never set eyes on the wo- 
man who’d married Amos, thinking she’d fall into 
all the old man’s money.” 

“But she never did send the child, you notice,” 
said Leslie. “Which proves that she cared more 
for him than Old Jed’s miser gold.” 

“Stop jabbering there, you fellers,” muttered 
Nat, with a touch of his ordinary bullying author- 


19 THE r. M. a A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


ity, for he was used to lording it over Dit Hennesy 
and several other boys. 

“Yes,” Dick went on to say, “let’s creep up close 
to the house, and find out if we can get in through 
some window he’s forgotten to fasten. Quiet now, 
everybody.” 

They wriggled their way through the new leaf- 
less undergrowth with considerable skill, and soon 
reached the side of the large building. Then a 
hasty search was made, which resulted in the dis- 
covery that one window fastening had been over- 
looked by Old Jed when going his rounds earlier 
in the evening. 

Dick soon had the window raised without mak- 
ing any noise. Perhaps the hearts of several of 
those boys beat faster than customary as they 
crawled in through the aperture. They knew they 
were doing something that bordered on the law- 
less, for to break in and enter a house, even in 
pursuit of Hallowe’en fun, was an act that no 
cj)urt would sanction or forgive, no matter how 
lenient the judge might be. 

What made it seem more realistic was the fact 
that Nat had come prepared to show them the way, 
for he carried a small electric flashlight, which, by 
constantly keeping in action, he could use to advan- 
tage. 

“Wheel this makes me feel queer,” whispered 
Andy in the ear of Elmer, as they started to pick 


A SCHEME THAT WENT WRONG liS 

their way across the room, avoiding such obstacles 
as chairs and tables. 

“Wonder if this is the way a burglar always 
feels,” the other answered, in such a low tone that 
it could not have been heard three feet away. 

Dick turned on them, and shook his head as if 
to intimate that even such communications were 
out of order. Then he started to get his sheet 
fixed, Nat having previously torn places in each 
covering so that they could be used for peep holes. 

By the time four of them had rigged themselves 
out in these ridiculous costumes, the parlor of Dea- 
con Nocker’s big house looked as though it might 
be the assembling place for the whole ghost tribe. 

After glancing about to make sure all was ready, 
Nat gave Dick the signal agreed upon. From that 
time forward he wanted Dick to take the lead, 
since it was up to the other to do what speaking 
was required. 

They could see that there was a light in the li- 
brary, for a line under the connecting door be- 
trayed this fact. The window being open, every 
one plainly heard the not far-distant town clock 
begin to strike the witching hour of midnight. 

Hardly had the last solemn clang died away 
when a deep groan arose, Dick bqing the one to 
start the ball rolling. He waited to ascertain what 
the effect might be before repeating the perform- 
ance. 


14 THE r. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


Evidently, Deacon Nocker had heard the groan, 
for they caught the sound of his chair falling over 
in his haste to jump to his feet. The question now 
was whether he would be afraid to look in on them 
as they hoped. But all doubt on that score was 
quickly dissipated, for the old man suddenly threw 
the door wide open, and then started back at sight 
of what he saw beyond. 

The four who were covered with the sheets all 
pointed straight at the owner of the house, just 
as they had read supposed-to-be ghosts always did. 
Elmer, Dan and Andy, not possessing any ghostly 
apparel, had hidden themselves behind sundry ar- 
ticles of bulky furniture, whence they peered 
out as best they might in the endeavor to see all 
the “fun.” 

At first sight it appeared as though Deacon 
Nocker was a badly frightened man, especially 
when a mysterious and solemn voice sounding very 
creepy, and coming from overhead, was heard. 

“Be warned, rash mortal,” it said. “We have 
come from the land of spirits to tell you to mend 
your ways before it is too late. Love your neigh- 
bors, and do good. If they smite you on one cheek 
turn the other. Help the poor and needy when the 
cold winds of winter begin to blow. Your time 
on earth is short, and you will have no other 
chance. Listen, ponder, and act!” 

Considering that Dick had such a short time in 


A SCHEME THAT WENT WRONG 15 

which to think up what he ought to say when point- 
ing his hand at the old deacon this was not so bad. 
Some of his companions considered it highly enter- 
taining; indeed, Elmer, or was it Andy, safe in 
his place of concealment, even ventured to chuckle. 
This sound may have given the alarmed old man 
the first suspicion that his ghostly visitors were 
something more than they seemed to be in that 
half-darkened room. 

They heard him utter a snarl. Then he reached 
in with one hand, there was a sudden “click” and 
the parlor was flooded with light, for the deacon 
had turned the electric switch! 

Of course in that dazzling glow the nature of 
the precious “fake” was readily exposed. The 
boys saw the deacon stare angrily at them, and 
then whirling around rush back into his library as 
though for something with which to assail these 
unbidden guests. 

“Cut for it, fellows; he’s gone for his gun!” 
exclaimed Nat, excitedly, at the same moment 
throwing his sheet aside and heading directly for 
the open window, through which he plunged head- 
long. 

The others, seized with a panic after the col- 
lapse of Nat’s grand scheme, also jumped for the 
only exit. Some went through about as speedily as 
Nat had done, while others attempted climbing 
down a little more carefully. 


16 THE F. M, C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


By great good luck every one managed to get 
outside the house before Old Jed appeared in the 
open window of the lighted parlor, carrying a 
rusty double-barrel shotgun in his hands. He was 
very angry it seemed, because of the fright to 
which he had been subjected, for without hesita- 
tion, he fired both barrels of his weapon, though 
aiming a bit high. 

Seven panic-stricken boys plunged through a wil- 
derness of bushes, colliding with sundry trees 
which they failed to notice, and reaching the fence 
by the road at various angles. Here there were 
exhibited all sorts of speedy “high and lofty vault- 
ing^’ as the circus posters term it, some of the 
fellows even landing on all fours in the dust of 
the road. 

A short time afterwards a number of them col- 
lected on the sand lot to compare experiences. 
Several were nursing bumps they had received 
from a too close and intimate acquaintance with 
the trees in Deacon Nocker’s front yard. Dan 
was holding his handkerchief to his nose, and the 
sanguinary hue of the aforementioned article 
would indicate that he had come to grief in his 
mad flight. 

Still they would not have been real boys if they 
had not seen the humorous side of their late ad- 
venture. Even Dan chuckled between dips with 
his handkerchief, though Dick made him throw 


A SCHEME THAT WENT WRONG 17 

/lis head back, and breathe evenly so as to try to 
stop the flow of blood. 

“Where’s Nat?” demanded Leslie, half angrily. 

“Oh ! you won’t see Nat around again,” asserted 
Andy, confidently. “I know him too well to ex- 
pect that. He’s about home by this time, for his 
kind always runs away, to let others shoulder the 
blame.” 

“What’s bothering me,” admitted Elmer, rue- 
fully, “is whether Old Jed recognized any of us. 
When he flashed that light he must have seen me 
staring out at him from behind that sofa.” 

“And I’m afraid I dropped my cap somewhere,” 
said Dick, uneasily. “The worst thing about it is 
I was silly enough to write my name inside.” 

“Whew ! that may mean a whole lot of trouble 
for the crowd, Dick!” exclaimed Leslie. “But 
just remember that what happens to one must con- 
cern all. We’re every bit as guilty as you are; 
and if Old Jed starts to give you any trouble we’ll 
all own up and take the penalty.” 

“That’s mighty good of you to say that, Leslie,” 
declared Dick. “But perhaps after all the deacon 
will remember it was Hallowe’en. He must have 
been a boy himself once, and ought to forgive such 
pranks. But let’s get home now, fellows, and for- 
get our troubles. Come on, Dan, if you’re through 
shedding your gore. So-long all the rest of you.” 


CHAPTER III 


THE MAN WHO HAD FAITH 

“Good morning, Mr. Holwell !” 

“Glad to see you, Harry. I suppose you are on 
your way to the mills, for since you decided to act 
as assistant to your good father, instead of going 
another two years to college, you’ve been stick- 
ing pretty close to your work.” 

Mr. Thomas Holwell, the best-loved pastor in 
Cliflfwood, shook hands most heartily with the fine 
looking young fellow whom he had met on the 
main street of the town about eight o’clock in the 
morning of that first day of November. 

Harry Bartlett was the only son of the head 
of the big paper mills. He had always been a 
credit to the town, and won many honors for his 
school both with regard to scholarships and in ath- 
letics. Two years in college had seen him get- 
ting along famously, when a change in his father’s 
health caused him to alter all his plans, bringing 
him back home to assume some of the business 
cares. 

“Oh! I find plenty of time to be doing some 


18 


THE MAN WHO HAD FAITH 

other things that I care for, in spite of the h.avy 
work at the mills,*’ replied young Bartlett, cheer- 

*‘Yes, I know you are taking a deep interest m 
the work at our local Y. M. C. A.,” the older gen- 
tleman went on to say, still grippi*"^ Harry’s hand 
warmly in his. ‘‘It was largely through the benev- 
olence of your good father that we were able to 
hire that building, and establish a home for our 
many young men, where they could be kept off 
the street nights, and enjoy themselves in clean 
sport.” 

The boys and young men in Cliffwood had no 
better friend in all that region than the Rev. 
Thomas Holwell. It had been largely through 
his hearty labors that the idea of having a local 
Y. M. C. A. finally assumed definite shape, and 
leading men of the town had subscribed enough 
money to put the project through. 

“I fancy the younger element in town must have 
been pretty busy last night,” Harry remarked, 
partly to change the subject, for he was very mod- 
est, and never liked to hear his own praises sung, 
even by the minister whom he loved so well. 

“Oh ! as to that,” the older gentleman observed, 
“we always expect something along the line of in- 
nocent pranks to happen on that one boys’ night 
of the year. Wise people take in their doormats 
and clothes-poles. Some I know even make it a 


20 THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


point to hide all gates that are removable, ash bar- 
rels, and such things. We mustn’t forget that we 
were boys ourselves once upon a time.” 

Harry laughed as though some memories con- 
nected with sundry doings along those same lines 
haunted him. 

“They seem to be getting bolder every year, 
Fm afraid,” he continued. “I was out for a tramp 
as a sort of bracer, after daylight this morning, 
and wondered what on earth old Farmer Hasty 
could be doing up on the roof of his big barn. It 
seems some boys had taken one of his wagons all 
apart, and fastened the wheels along the ridge- 
pole. He was pretty mad about it too.” 

Mr. Holwell sighed and shook his head. 

“Some of those boys are getting to be pretty 
wild. I’m afraid, Harry,” he went on to remark, 
reflectively. “They pursue their desire for fun 
too far. I’ve been doing more or less hard think- 
ing lately about them, and mean to have a serious 
talk with you soon, to see if something can be done 
to lead that love for a frolic in the right channel.” 

“Here comes Mr. Nocker, and looking more 
severe than I ever knew him to be,” remarked 
Harry Bartlett. “I wonder if any of the boys 
have been playing practical jokes on the deacon. 
I can remember doing that same thing, and once 
got a good drenching in the bargain from a bucket 
of water at his hands.” 


THE MAN WHO HAD FAITH 21 

“Good morning, Deacon Nocker,” said Mr. 
Holwell, as the richest storekeeper in Cliffwood 
reached them. “Harry here was saying you looked 
worried this fine morning. I hope you have not 
had anything more happen to trouble you?” 

The crabbed old man shook his head as he has- 
tened to reply to this question. 

“I’m on my way straight to the office of the 
Chief of Police, to swear out warrants against 
three boys of this town, who entered my house late 
last night, forcing a window just like ordinary 
burglars. It’s high time the perverted natures of 
our boys were checked. I’ll see to it these three 
are put under bonds to behave themselves. I’ve 
stood enough, and this outrage is the last straw 
that breaks the patient camel’s back.” 

“Who are the three lads, Deacon Nocker?” 
asked Mr. Holwell, with deep anxiety in his voice, 
for he loved all boys, and believed in them. 

“I found this cap on my floor after I’d fright- 
ened the lot off, and it’s marked Dick Horner,” 
the old man hastened to say, triumphantly flourish- 
ing the head gear as he spoke. “Then I recog- 
nized two other young scamps as Elmer Jones and 
Daniel Fenwick. I’m going to have the law on 
them for breaking in. The rest of the crowd had 
some silly sort of white gowns like sheets on, so I 
didn’t see their faces. But the police will find 
out who they were, never fear.” 


22 THE Y, M, C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


“They must have been trying to play ghost, 
thinking to frighten you, Mr. Nocker I” exclaimed 
Harry, trying hard to repress the smile he felt 
creeping over his face, for possibly he may have 
been guilty of some such prank in his younger days. 

“No matter what they meant to do,” retorted 
the old man, angrily. “It was next door to a crime 
to break into a private house as they did. And 
trying to frighten any one through such outrageous 
means might end in serious results, in case the vic- 
tim were afflicted with heart trouble, as I am. I 
shall see that Dick Horner and his companions 
are made to suffer for their escapade.” 

He was about to move on when Mr. Holwell 
caught his arm. 

“Please wait a minute. Deacon Nocker,” said 
the minister, seriously. “You might in your calmer 
moments regret having caused the Widow Horner 
additional sorrow. We all know she has seen 
enough, as it is. If you will listen to my advice 
it may not be necessary for you to proceed to such 
extreme measures as to cause the arrest of those 
good-hearted, but reckless, lads.” 

“Boys should be taken in hand and treated se- 
verely if you want them to amount to anything, 
Mr. Holwell,” protested the storekeeper, who, 
nevertheless, entertained considerable respect for 
his pastor, and consequently did not break away 
from his gentle, detaining grasp. 


THE MAN WHO HAD FAITH 


23 


“I know that has always been your policy, Dea- 
con,” said the other. “But some of us believe boys 
are more sinned against than sinning. I myself 
fancy there is some good in every boy, if only you 
can find it. The trouble is we go about it the 
wrong way. It is a case of the fierce wind failing 
to tear the traveler’s cloak off, when the warm, 
genial sunshine soon caused him to shed it.” 

“But the Good Book tells us not to refrain from 
using the rod,” urged the storekeeper. “I have 
heard you read that passage more than a few 
times, Mr. Holwell.” 

“Yes, but use it in moderation,” explained the 
minister, “and then only in love. If I had a boy 
of my own I would never whip or punish him for 
heedless things he may have done without a heart- 
to-heart talk with him afterwards, and a reconcilia- 
tfon. Harsh actions do not profit one in the case 
of boys. I really believe it only serves to make 
them think they are being imposed upon, and their 
liberties destroyed, which leads to open rebellion.” 

“Well, since you ask it as a favor, Mr. Hol- 
well,” the deacon went on to say, reluctantly, “I 
will promise to forego my threat this time. But 
it is the last opportunity for those three young 
jackanapes. If they ever attempt to bait me again, 
I will surely bring them to book, no matter what 
ill feeling it causes.” 

“Thank you. Deacon,” said the minister, shak- 


24 THE F. M, C, A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


ing the old man’s hand, which was put in his rather 
reluctantly it must be confessed. “On my part, I 
promise you that something is soon going to be 
done to curb the reckless habit our boys have of 
seeking excitement, and what they call fun. I 
think we shall be able to make a considerable dif- 
ference in their habits, once we get started.” 

At that prophecy the crabbed old man snorted. 

“I imagine that will happen, Mr. Holwell,” he 
said, sneeringly, “when the heavens fall, or water 
starts to run uphill. Kind words never yet con- 
trolled youthful spirits. It’s strap-oil that is 
needed to make decent men of them.” 

“Ah ! yes, but even that stern method often fails. 
Deacon,” the minister gently reminded him, and 
the old man’s face went whiter than usual, while 
speech failed him utterly; for like a stab there 
must have come to him the remembrance of the 
bright-faced young fellow he had sent away from 
home years ago, and whom he never saw again in 
life. 

He broke away from the hand of the minister, 
and muttering to himself, stamped off; but both of 
them saw that at least he was now headed for his 
store, and not in the direction of police headquar- 
ters. 

Mr. Holwell and Harry Bartlett stood there 
looking after him. The young fellow appeared 
somewhat amused, but his companion was very 


THE MAN WHO HAD FAITH 


25 


grave, and the lines on his forehead told that 
serious thoughts were gripping him. 

‘‘Things are getting worse all the while, it 
seems, Harry,” remarked the minister, finally. 
“Our boys are constantly becoming more reckless, 
it strikes me, in their desire to have what they call 
fun. The times are changing, and we must change 
with them. What answered in my younger days 
will not fill the bill in these times.” 

“I’m afraid you’re about right there, sir,” 
Harry admitted. “Even I can notice that boys are 
getting out of hand very fast. They hesitate at 
nothing when out for a good time. And I run 
across a great many boys loitering on the street 
corners as late as ten o’clock at night.” 

“Mostly because their homes have not been 
made attractive enough for them,” the observant 
minister went on to say. “But I’ve tried in vain 
to get the co-operation of their parents. Some- 
thing else must be done, some way found whereby 
we can obtain and hold the interest of these half- 
grown lads. And Harry, a brilliant idea flashed 
into my mind last night while I sat alone brooding 
in my study.” 

“I should like to hear what it is, then.” 

“First of all I want to tell you, Harry, that I 
shall surely need your hearty backing if the plan 
I have in view is going to meet with a shadow of 
success.” 


26 THE Y. M. a A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


“Before I hear a word of your scheme, sir, I 
can promise you that much,” said the younger 
member of the newly reorganized firm of Bart- 
lett & Company, with hearty emphasis. 

“I felt sure I could count on your whole-souled 
assistance, Harry!” Mr. Holwell exclaimed, joy- 
ously. “Like myself you believe in boys to the ut- 
most.” 

“Then tell me what it is you have been consider- 
ing, sir,” urged Harry. 

“A radical step in our service for young men 
and boys,” said the minister, with flashing eyes, 
and enthusiasm beaming from every feature of his 
rosy, healthy face. “It is nothing more or less 
than to start a junior organization in the Y. M. 
C. A., giving younger lads a chance to form a club, 
granting them the privileges of the gymnasium, the 
reading rooms, and admission to the lecture course 
as well. What do you say to that, Harry?” 

“A splendid scheme, Mr. Holwell, and Fll go 
into it with all my heart and soul.” 

“Come over to the parsonage tonight, then, 
Harry, and fetch your father along. Til have a 
few other people, ladies as well, present, and we’ll 
talk over the project; but I tell you now once for 
all we must push it through; no halfway measure 
will do. Call it eight this evening, Harry. And 
here’s wishing great luck to the Boys’ Department 
of the Y. M. C. A. I” 


CHAPTER IV 


SOME WONDERFUL NEWS 

Two days after the Hallowe’en episode, Dick 
Horner, walking along the main street of Cliff- 
wood, stopped to look in at the window of the 
sporting goods establishment. The display of 
guns, fishing tackle, football and hockey require- 
ments, as well as many games for home and club 
entertainment, always possessed a peculiar fas- 
cination for Dick. 

He sighed now as he surveyed these tempting 
things, for money being always a scarce commod- 
ity at the little Horner cottage, poor Dick could 
not afford to squander much on luxuries. 

A hearty slap on the back awakened him from 
his little day dream. Turning quickly he found 
that his chum, Leslie Capes, was standing beside 
him, with a broad smile on his face. 

“Made up your mind which gun you want, old 
fellow?” the newcomer asked, jauntily. “Or per- 
haps now it was some of that football stuff you 
were mapping out to buy?” 

Dick laughed to hide the spasm that shot 


27 


28 THE F. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


through his heart; for he realized that he needed 
a new suit of clothes more than he did any of 
those fine articles so temptingly displayed. 

“Well, I haven’t decided just yet, Leslie,” he 
said, lightly enough, considering what his feelings 
had been a moment before. “I’m glad you came 
along, for I was just on the point of going over to 
your house to see you.” 

“I’ll wager a cookey I can guess what your er- 
rand was,” remarked the other. 

“Give a try then,” Dick went on to say. “I 
don’t believe you’ll come within a thousand yards 
of it.” 

“Well, this is Friday afternoon, isn’t it, and 
we got out early from school,” the other boy 
started to explain. “That makes tomorrow Sat- 
urday, and it seems that four of us fellows have a 
date to get off with our horse and wagon in the 
morning to visit that hickory grove about seven 
miles up the Sweetwater, where we’ve heard the 
nuts were mighty thick this fall, and plenty still 
on the ground.” 

Leslie finished with an expectant smile, as 
though he really believed he must have struck the 
bull’s-eye the first shot. He was surprised to see 
Dick shake his head in the negative. 

“Better try again,” the other told him. 

“Oh ! if it’s as deep as all that I’ll have to throw 
up the sponge, and own myself beaten,” admitted 


SOME WONDERFUL NEWS 


29 


Leslie. “That’s about the only thing I can think 
of; unless you’ve got something to tell me about 
that Deacon Nocker scrape the other night. Did 
he drop over and see your mother, Dick, after 
sending your cap to you by one of his store boys?” 

“Not a word has been said,” replied Dick, “and 
I was beginning to wonder what had come over 
Mr. Nocker, because he’s usually so bitter toward 
boys. But the mystery has all been made clear 
since I met Mr. Holwell, the minister, about half 
an hour ago.” 

“Did he coax the old deacon to go easy with us, 
Dick? It would be just like Mr. Holwell, for 
he’s the best friend the boys of Cliffwood ever 
had.” 

“Yes, it happened that Mr. Holwell and Harry 
Bartlett were talking on the morning after Hal- 
lowe’en when they saw the deacon heading for 
police headquarters. He told them what had hap- 
pened, and how he knew who three of the boys 
were who had dared to enter his house at midnight 
and tried to give him a terrible fright.” 

“Whew I is that a fact, Dick? I can guess what 
Mr. Holwell and Harry did then.” 

“Yes, they were worried for fear of what the 
consequences might be, and finally managed to 
talk the deacon into giving up his idea of having 
us arrested for trespass and breaking into his 
house. Then the two got to talking over matters, 


30 THE Y, M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


and the result was a secret meeting held that night 
at the parsonage.” 

“Why, my Uncle Henry was out that night, and 
I couldn’t get him to tell me where he’d been I” 
exclaimed Leslie. “He looked mighty mysterious 
too, and told me to just hold my horses, and in 
good time I might hear something drop.” 

“Well,” continued Dick, impressively, “at that 
meeting, so Mr. Holwell has just informed me, 
for it isn’t going to be kept a secret any longer, 
they decided to form a Junior Department of the 
Y. M. C. A. so as to keep the younger boys of the 
town off the streets nights, by supplying them with 
all sorts of entertainments in the headquarters 
building of the association.” 

Despite the fact that many people were passing 
in both directions on that November afternoon, 
since they stood on the main street of bustling Cliff- 
wood, Leslie Capes snatched off his cap and waved 
it wildly above his head several times. 

“Bully for that!” he exclaimed. “It’s the best 
thing that ever happened to Cliffwood since the 
day the old town was first started. Oh, I can see 
what a big help that’s going to be for all the de- 
cent boys. And in the good old summer time we 
can have all sorts of hikes and camping trips. That 
is a great surprise you’ve rung in on me, Dick 1” 

“Hold on!” remarked Dick. “It isn’t only the 
decent fellows that are going to have a chance to 


SOME WONDERFUL NEWS 


31 


join the club. Mr. Holwell believes in giving 
every one a show, even Nat Silmore, Dit Hennesy, 
and their crowd. And any of the boys who work 
in the mills can be members if they agree to the 
rules of the organization.” 

“Whew! I wonder how that will work?” said 
Leslie, frowning. “I mean about Nat and Dit, for 
they’re always such trouble-makers, you know.” 

“Well, Mr. Holwell is willing to give them all 
the chances he can to make good, but you know 
that he isn’t going to stand too much nonsense,” 
Dick continued. “If Nat starts a racket he’ll find 
himself outside the door in a hurry, unless I miss 
my guess.” 

“We’ll soon be rid of him then,” laughed the 
other boy, “because it’s just as natural for Nat 
to make himself disagreeable as it is for water to 
run down hill. But this is great news you’ve been 
telling me, Dick. Queer that I didn’t guess it must 
have had some connection with Mr. Holwell, be- 
cause he’s always thinking how he can help the 
boys along.” 

“It’s going to be the beginning of a new era 
in Cliffwood, he says,” Dick continued. “He thinks 
things are getting pretty near the breaking point, 
because for a fact the boys here have been going 
it strong of late. I can see that we’ll have jolly 
times this winter in that gymnasium and the club 
rooms.” 


32 THE F. M. C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


“As like as not Mr. Holwell will get up a whole 
lot of entertainments for us, such as moving pic- 
tures of an educational nature,” suggested Leslie. 

“He spoke of that,” Dick volunteered, “and 
also told me we would have something of our 
own to do, though I don’t believe he’s made up his 
mind yet what it will be. But once I heard him tell 
my mother that years ago he used to belong to a 
traveling minstrel show, and had gone through a 
pack of interesting adventures while on the road. 
So it maybe something along that order.” 

“That would be simply immense!” exclaimed 
the delighted Leslie. “And they could make you 
an end man, Dick. With that ventriloquist voice 
of yours I can see how you’d bring down the 
house.” 

“We won’t cross any bridges till we come to 
them,” laughed Dick. “I’m willing to do my part, 
no matter where they put me. You see, Mr. Hol- 
well had a little talk with me about a whole lot 
of things, and I sort of made him a promise — 
never mind what it was about.” 

Leslie looked at his chum seriously and then 
went on to say ; 

“Mebbe I can give a pretty good guess what he 
said, Dick; but some other time you may take a 
notion to tell me. Mr. Holwell is a fine man, and 
if anybody can control the boys of Cliffwood, he 
ought to. But I’ve got an errand in town, so I’ll 


SOME WONDERFUL NEWS 


33 


have to break away from you, expecting to see you 
at the house at eight sharp tomorrow morning. 
Then ho ! for the shellbarks by the bushel, enough 
for a whole winter’s supply.” 

“Don’t be in such a big hurry, Leslie,” urged 
Dick. 

“What! have you got another dark secret to 
tell me?” demanded the other, laughingly. 

Dick looked cautiously around him. Then he 
nodded his head. 

“It’s a sure enough secret this time,” he ob- 
served, in a lowered voice. “Wait up a minute, 
because there’s Deacon Nocker coming along the 
street, and of all the people in Cliffwood he’s the 
last I’d want to have overhear what I’m going 
to tell you.” 

Of course, this excited the curiosity of Leslie 
more than ever. He managed to hold his feelings 
in check while the grim old storekeeper walked 
past. Deacon Nocker gave the two boys one ma- 
licious look, and with a sneer on his thin face said : 

“Hatching up some more of your tricks, I ex- 
pect. But I give you plain warning that these 
scandalous goings-on are not to be tolerated any 
longer in a respectable town like Cliffwood. Bet- 
ter be going home and doing your chores. Loaf- 
ing on street corners never gave any boy a lift in 
life; but it has helped many a lad to start to the 
penitentiary.” 


34 THE Y. M. C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


Then the worthy deacon walked on with his 
head lifted proudly, as though he really believed 
he had fulfilled his duty as a Christian in warn- 
ing the boys of the rocks upon which they were 
drifting, even though he had not stretched out a 
helping hand to assist them. 

“The old curmudgeon!” muttered Leslie. 
“How he does hate all boys! No wonder his 
own son ran away from home years ago. Say, 
that big house must have seemed like a cold stor- 
age plant to that boy, for there couldn’t have been 
anything like warmth and happiness inside of it, 
with Old Jed Nocker present. I’m glad he isn’t 
any relation to me, that’s all I can say.” 

“Listen, Leslie,” Dick continued, lowering his 
voice still more. “You’ll think it queer, I know, 
but all the same it’s about that same boy, Amos 
Nocker, that I’m going to say something right 
now.” 

“But look here, Dick, didn’t we hear some time 
ago that Amos had married, and later on died far 
away out West somewhere?” 

“It was true too, Leslie. He married a sweet 
little girl, and for a time managed to support her 
in comfort, because Amos had turned over a new 
leaf, you see. Then he came down with tubercu- 
losis, and trouble stepped in.” 

“Whew! that was rough,” said the other, his 
boyish heart touched with genuine sympathy. 


SOME WONDERFUL NEWS 


35 


“And just after Amos was getting a fair start, 
too. But why didn’t he write to his rich father 
and get help?” 

“He did, but his letter was returned unopened,” 
Dick explained. “In the end poor Amos Nocker 
died, just as we heard.” 

“Leaving a widow and a child.” 

“Just what it was, Leslie — the sweetest little 
woman you ever knew, and the boy is^ a darling if 
ever there was one. You see she wrote to the old 
man telling him about Amos’ sad death, and that 
she and the boy were almost penniless.” 

“Did that touch the heart of Jed Nocker?” 

“He answered her letter, and what do you 
think he said?” continued Dick, between his set 
teeth. “That as for her, he vowed never to set 
eyes on the face of the woman who had married 
his boy, thinking to come into some of his father’s 
hard-earned money; but that if she chose to send 
the child on to him he would care for it. But she 
must never darken his doors with her presence.” 

“The cold-blooded old wretch !” burst out Les- 
lie, indignantly. “But see here, Dick, how do you 
happen to know all this?” 

“For the simple reason that Amos Nocker’s 
young widow, and the child, little Billy, are over 
at our house right now!” came the astonishing an- 
swer that staggered the listener, and caused him to 
gasp as he stared at Dick. 


CHAPTER V 


SETTING THE FOX TRAP 

“That^S a queer thing you’re telling me, Dick I” 
was what Leslie Capes finally observed, scanning 
the face of his chum closely. 

“After all it isn’t so very strange,” explained the 
other. “My mother once knew a Matilda Smith, 
and corresponded with her for some years. She 
married and was Tilly’s mother, it turned out, and 
Tilly is the girl Amos Nocker married. So among 
her mother’s letters Tilly found the address of our 
folks, and seeing it was Cliffwood, where her un- 
forgiving father-in-law lived, she wrote on.” 

“Oh I Then your mother had her come here and 
to her house, did she, Dick?” 

“Just what happened, though I didn’t get wind 
of the secret till she arrived today,” Dick hastened 
to explain. 

“But what’s the game?” questioned Leslie, 
eagerly. “Your mother and Grandpop Horner 
must have something up their sleeves.” 

“Just what they have,” admitted Frank, with 
flashing eyes. “And say, after seeing what a 


36 


SETTING THE FOX TRAP 


37 


dandy little darling that Billy is I reckon it might 
have a ghost of a chance of succeeding; though 
lots of people would laugh at the idea of a child 
breaking through into the flinty old heart of Jed 
Nocker.” 

‘‘Go on and tell me what’s up,” urged Leslie, 
almost consumed with curiosity. 

“Listen, then,” Dick continued, mysteriously. 
“My mother hasn’t made up her mind that Mr. 
Nocker is hopeless. She really believes that in 
secret he has suffered a whole lot for his hardness 
to poor Amos.” 

“Huh ! I guess she’s about the only person in 
town then that believes so,” grumbled Leslie. “Ev- 
erybody else thinks he’s got no heart at all, but 
a frozen turnip in its place. What makes your 
mother believe that, Dick?” 

“Well,” said the other, “for one thing, she had 
occasion to go into his private office a week or 
so ago. She thought he called out ‘come in’ when 
she knocked, but when she opened the door Jed 
was standing there looking at a picture of poor 
Amos that he had on top of his rolltop desk; and 
he blew his nose a whole lot when he saw her. 
Mother says she felt sure his eyes looked watery.” 

Leslie gave a mocking laugh at that. 

“It never could have happened, Dick, believe 
me!” he exclaimed. “Chances were he only had 
a bad cold in the head; lots of it around town at 


38 THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


this time of the year, and among older people es- 
pecially. But you hinted at some sort of a plan 
that our folks had been making up.” 

“My mother has a strong notion, which has 
become a positive conviction since seeing the fine 
little chap, that if Old Jed could become interested 
in Billy, not knowing that it was his own grand- 
child he was beginning to care for, he might in the 
end consent to accepting Tilly as his daughter, and 
provide for them.” 

“H’ml sounds pretty nice, but knowing Mr. 
Nocker as well as I do I’m pretty shaky about the 
scheme working. But how could we go about it, 
Dick?” 

“We’d have to get somebody interested who 
could afford to put a little money in the plan,” ex- 
plained Dick, hesitatingly. 

“How about my Uncle Henry?” demanded the 
other, instantly. “He’s just the one to plunge into 
anything of that kind, recklessly.” 

“I’m sure he would be glad of the chance to 
help,” Dick went on to say, “after he had met Tilly 
and little Billy. And Leslie, you know the old 
saying, ‘speak of an angel and you’ll hear his 
wings ?’ Well, there comes your uncle right now.” 

“I’ll hold him up, Dick, and you can explain the 
whole thing to him. Then, if you say the word, 
we’ll all go to your house and meet Tilly Nocker 
and Billy. Hello! Uncle Henry, we were just 


SETTING THE FOX TRAP 


39 


talking about you. Are you in a big hurry, or 
could you spare a little time to listen to something 
my chum Dick here wants to say?” 

The gentleman spoken to was a middle-aged, 
pleasant-faced man, and Leslie had for years come 
to look upon him as his good fairy. He supplied 
the lad with funds, perhaps too generously, but 
Uncle Henry’s faith in boys was deep-rooted, so 
that he believed they would come through all 
right. He looked upon them as certain to ex- 
hibit a certain number of prank-loving propensi- 
ties, even as they caught the measles. 

“It happens that I’ve got plenty of time on my 
hands just now, boys,” he told them. “What is 
the trouble at present? Been getting in some 
farmer’s orchard, and he threatens to make trouble 
for you if you don’t pay for the damage done?” 

Leslie laughed at hearing this. 

“A bad guess that time. Uncle Henry,” he told 
the gentleman, much to his relief. “We’re going 
to cut out most of that sort of business, now that 
Mr. Holwell has started to organize a Boys’ De- 
partment of the Y. M. C. A. Dick here wants 
to enlist your co-operation in a little scheme that 
his mother is engineering; and Uncle, I’ve as good 
as said I knew you’d jump at the chance to help.” 

“Thanks for your good opinion, Nephew,” 
laughed the other. “But suppose you tell me what 
it’s all about before I make any promises.” 


40 THE F. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


“Of course you know all about Amos Nocker, 
sir,” began Dick; “and how when he died away 
out West, his widow wrote asking the old deacon 
for help, which he 4*efused to give unless she 
handed over her little son to him, with a promise 
never to even try to see him?” 

“Yes,” replied Uncle Henry, gruffly, “I’ve 
heard about that, and thought it just about as mean 
and cold-blooded a proposition as ever was made. 
To think of making the poor young widow give 
up her child unless she wanted to starve I But 
then what more could you expect from Old Jed 
Nocker, the Icicle of Cliffwood?” 

“Well, both Tilly and her child, little Billy, 
are over at our house right now,” continued Dick, 
eagerly. “Of course, it’s a dead secret, and you 
two are the only ones who know it. She’s mean- 
ing to go under the name of Mrs. Smith, you see.” 

Uncle Henry looked decidedly interested. 

“Tell me what’s in the wind, Dick, for I believe 
you said your mother had some sort of scheme.” 

“It’s just this way, sir,” explained Dick. “You 
know the Brandon place next door to the deacon’s 
is empty, and for rent, furnished or empty. My 
mother thought that if Tilly took that house, and 
just by accident, you see, little Billy managed to 
creep through a hole in the fence between the 
places, and Mr. Nocker happened to run across 
him, he might become interested in the child.” 


SETTING THE FOX TRAP 


41 


“Whew! that’s the game, is it?” exclaimed 
Leslie. 

Uncle Henry seemed to ponder over it for a full 
minute or so. 

“There’s a chance it might work,” he finally 
admitted; “though a whole lot would depend on 
the lad himself, as well as the state Old Jed has 
reached. Some profess to believe he’s beginning 
to break under the strain. For myself I must con- 
fess I’ve seen no signs of it so far; he’s just as 
hard as ever.” 

“Well, it might turn out that he’s trying to keep 
up a brave face even when he’s near breaking 
down,” said Dick, quickly. “My mother surprised 
him looking at a picture of Amos one day, and 
she is sure his eyes were wet. And as far as little 
Billy is concerned, sir, if you come over to our 
house and meet him, I think you’ll say he can turn 
the trick, if anything can.” 

“Is he such a darling, then?” asked Uncle 
Henry, who, although an old bachelor himself, 
had a fondness for children. 

“Wait till you see him, and then tell me, sir,” 
replied Dick, confidently. 

“All right, we’ll go over with you now if you 
say so, Dick,” the generous gentleman hastened 
to say, 

“And after you’ve met Tilly and her little boy, 
sir,” continued Dick, anxious to strike while the 


42 THE Y. M, C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


iron was hot, “if you think well of the scheme will 
you go and secure the Brandon house for a month, 
so they can move in tomorrow?” 

“I’ll be only too glad to do that, my boy,” re- 
plied Uncle Henry, laying a hand affectionately 
on a shoulder of each of the chums, while he 
beamed down upon the flushed face of Dick 
through his glasses. “It would be well worth a 
month’s rent to me, or ten months for that mat- 
ter, if I could have a hand in breaking up that iron 
will of Old Jed Nocker, and making him a little 
bit human.” 

“How about your errand, Leslie, can it wait?” 
asked Dick. 

“Shucks 1 Itli have to,” laughed the other; 
“because you see I was only going to have a hair- 
cut, and what are a few stray locks between 
friends. Come on, let’s get a move on. I’m wild 
to see that little Billy and his mother.” 

They were not long in reaching the white cot- 
tage near the bank of the murmuring river where 
Dick, his small sister Sue, his mother, and the old 
pensioner lived. 

When Dick threw open the door and ushered 
his two companions into the room they stood there 
and stared. A handsome little curly-haired boy of 
about three was playing horse with a chair which 
he straddled like a trooper. Leslie thought he had 
never set eyes on a more winning little chap, and 


SETTING THE FOX TRAP ^ 

stock in Dick’s plan immediately sprang up far 
above par in his mind. 

Tilly Nocker jumped to her feet as they entered. 
She was a pretty young woman, perhaps too sad 
for one of her tender years. Uncle Henry became 
interested in her immediately, for he saw that she 
had suffered. 

Dick’s mother and grandfather were also pres- 
ent. The former was worthy of any boy’s love, 
for her whole disposition was that of a gentle, 
trusting woman. As for the veteran of the Civil 
War, with his shock of white hair coming down 
almost to his shoulders, and his clean-cut features, 
he made a striking picture. 

“Mother, I’ve brought Leslie and Uncle Henry 
over to meet them !” burst out Dick. “They know 
what we plan to do, and Uncle Henry seems to 
be pretty much in favor of it already.” 

“Without saying another word,” remarked the 
gentleman, quickly, “I want to tell you I think it 
well worth trying. If Mr. Nocker can resist that 
winsome little chap then he’s got a lump of ice in 
place of a heart. I’m glad to meet you, Mrs. 
Nocker, and let me tell you that in all Cliffwood 
you couldn’t have found a better haven of rest 
than right here in Mrs. Horner’s cottage.” 

He shook hands with Tilly, and then hurried 
over to make the acquaintance of little Billy. 
While Uncle Henry had always been deeply in- 


44 THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


terested in children, he could not remember the 
time he had ever been so drawn to a bright-faced 
little chap as he was now. 

Deep down in his heart he was saying something 
like this: 

“If the old skinflint doesn’t come to time Fve 
got a good notion to adopt them both myself, 
and perhaps I will yet. One thing sure, they must 
never come to want. Why, it would be worth all 
it cost just to have that manly little chap around 
all the time.” 

Before Dick and his uncle were ready to go it 
had all been settled. 

“Fll take a short lease on the Brandon place in- 
side of half an hour,” announced Uncle Henry, 
positively, which showed that he was a man who 
never allowed the grass to grow under his feet 
when he had an object in view. “You can get set- 
tled tomorrow. We’ll keep the secret sacredly, 
and the town will only know you as Mrs. Smith. 
Then some time next week start the machinery 
moving.” 

After Uncle Henry had hurried away to ful- 
fill his part in the contract, Dick and Leslie stood 
outside the door to exchange a few words ere the 
latter walked off. 

“The trap is set,” Leslie said, “and now we’ll 
see if the cunning old fox can be tempted to take 
the bait.” 


CHAPTER VI 


TAKING THE BAIT 

When the great news concerning the boys of 
Cliffwood had circulated around town during the 
next few days it created no end of talk. Every- 
where it caused the most intense excitement among 
the rising generation. Parents in particular com- 
mended the plan of Mr. Holwell as a means for 
gripping the restless activities of the town boys, 
and turning them into some more useful channel 
than loitering about the streets at night and play- 
ing all sorts of practical jokes. 

At school it was the subject of talk wherever 
two or three fellows came together on the cam- 
pus, or while in the classrooms during intermission. 

Nearly every boy was in favor of the scheme. 
They talked it over and saw all manner of splen- 
did possibilities looming up, for not only the long 
evenings of the coming winter but even during the 
spring and summer months. 

“IVe handed in my application,” announced 
Phil Harkness, as with several other fellows he 
stood in the school basement keeping warm near 


45 


46 THE r. Af. C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


the furnace, while he munched some lunch pur- 
chased at the counter. “I hope nothing blocks me 
in joining the Juniors, because I expect they’re 
going to have great times.” 

“Mighty few fellows try to throw cold water 
on the idea,” ventured Dan Fenwick; “unless it’s 
Nat Silmore and Dit Hennesy, who’ve gone 
around sneering, and saying it’s all a bunk game 
on the part of Mr. Holwell and Harry Bartlett 
to keep boys from having good times playing 
tricks.” 

“Yes, but even they’re talking of applying for 
admission,” spoke up Clint Babbett; “and it 
wouldn’t surprise me if we had a heap of trouble 
with that crowd. If they get in to the first meet- 
ing which has been called for tomorrow night, look 
out for squalls, that’s all.” 

“Mr. Holwell thinks they are not as black as 
they’re painted,” suggested Peg Fosdick. “But 
that’s because he’s got such a big heart he just 
can’t decide that any sort of boy is beyond redemp- 
tion.” 

“If they come in,” asserted Dan, vigorously, 
“there’ll be a rumpus, as sure as you’re born. I 
wish there were going to be some of the Seniors 
present, but I understand that it’s an off night for 
them, and that only Mr. Holwell, with perhaps 
Harry Bartlett, can be present at the first meet- 
ing” 


TAKING THE BAIT 


47 


“Oh I well, where do we all come in?“ demanded 
Peg, puffing out his chest in a vainglorious fashion. 
“We’ll chase that crowd out in a hurry if they get 
too gay. Besides, police headquarters is close by, 
and Mr. Holwell could call them up on the ’phone 
if it got too smoky.” 

“I understand that nearly two dozen applica- 
tions are already in,” remarked Phil, “so there 
ought to be something of a crowd out at the meet- 
ing. I’m wild to know just what the plans are.” 

“First of all,” said Peg, “there’s going to be a 
small initiation fee, and monthly dues, just to help 
pay expenses, and make the boys feel it isn’t a char- 
ity. That’s Mr. Holwell’s idea; he doesn’t be- 
lieve boys like to be given everything. And one 
of the rules is going to be that they must earn 
the amount of their entering fee and dues.” 

“Wow! I see my finish then,” groaned Andy 
Hale; “because this morning my dad tempted me 
with an offer to saw and split a cord or two of 
wood that’s piled up in our back yard. Now I’ll 
just have to agree, if he’ll advance the pay to me.” 

“Some of the boys,” explained Phil, “are going 
to be given a chance to do certain things about the 
Y. M. C. A. building, such as taking care of the 
furnace, cleaning windows at odd hours, and the 
like.” 

“A good idea, too,” admitted Peg, “because 
some of the fellows who work in the mills would 


48 THE F. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


want to join us, you see, and they couldn’t af- 
ford to stand for the admittance fee.” 

“Uncle Henry Capes has let it be known that 
he stands ready to assist any worthy boy he thinks 
is in dead earnest, and who can’t afford the price,” 
announced Leslie. 

“Bully for your uncle, Leslie; he’s all right!” 
cried Peg, enthusiastically. 

“Here’s another thing, fellows. I’m meaning to 
bring up the first chance I get after the Boys’ De- 
partment is well started,” said Phil. “You know 
all of us have been a whole lot annoyed by Mr. 
Loft, the librarian, who believes all boys’ books 
should be thrown out of our Public Library, and 
only volumes along educational lines kept there.” 

“That’s right,” broke in Dan, eagerly. “I never 
call for a book that I’ve wanted to read but that 
he tried to show me the folly of indulging in such 
silly nonsense as he calls it. Guess the high-brow 
Mr. Loft never was a boy himself. He must have 
been fed on Greek grammar and ancient history 
when he was six years old. He makes me tired, 
that’s what. But go on and tell us what you’ve 
been thinking up, Phil.” 

“All right, I will, fellows,” replied the one 
spoken to. “In the beginning I want to say I’ve 
already talked the matter over with Mr. Holwell, 
Harry Bartlett, and Leslie’s Uncle Henry, and 
all of them took to the idea first rate.” 


TAKING THE BAIT 


49 


“Go on, and let’s hear!” called out several of 
the more impatient lads as they clustered around 
the speaker. 

“Listen then,” said Phil, impressively. “After 
we get the Junior Club well started the idea is 
to have a library of our own, containing only such 
books as Mr. Holwell will have passed upon as 
being the right sort for boys to read. These can 
be filled with pleasing adventure such as all boys 
want, and at the same time be of a healthy, uplift- 
ing nature, and all our own.” 

“Fine 1” exclaimed Dan Fenwick, who was a 
great reader of stories of all sorts. 

“We could buy the books ourselves with money 
we earned or had given to us,” declared Clint Bab- 
bett. “I know for one thing my mother will take 
to the scheme right away, because she hates to 
have me fetch home some of the greasy looking 
books from the public library. You see, she 
says you never can tell where they’ve been the week 
before; mebbe in a house where they have diph- 
theria or some sort of catching disease. Germs 
she hates the worst kind. Yes, she’ll be only too 
glad to help out.” 

From all sides the idea was commended. No 
one had ever thought of such an original scheme 
before, though some of the boys had pretty ex- 
tensive libraries of their own covering shelves of 
space in their dens at home, and consisting, for the 


50 THE F. M. C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


most part, of modern books for growing lads, such 
as the well-meaning but short-sighted librarian dis- 
liked to see them taking from the public insti- 
tution. 

Dick, coming along just then, was told of the 
new scheme. 

“I think it’s a good idea of yours, Phil,” he 
declared as soon as it had been explained to him. 
“Like the rest of you I’ve grown tired of having 
Mr. Loft forever looking so disgusted whenever 
I ask for a book by my favorite writer who knows 
boys, and writes straight down into their hearts.” 

“Let them keep the library just for works of 
educational value if they want,” asserted the proud 
originator of the idea; “although few people think 
that’s the only function for a public institution.” 

“Most boys get all the instruction they need in 
school,” asserted Peg; “and to read a good boy’s 
book, something along the line of outdoor sports, 
is one of their best recreations. Think of how 
every one of us, yes and our daddies and grand- 
fathers, as well, have poured over such classics as 
Robinson Crusoe and Swiss Family Robinson.” 

“Sure thing,” added Dick, convincingly, “and 
a good book keeps a boy from getting into heaps 
of mischief; because he’s just got to be doing some- 
thing. But there goes the bell, fellows. Hope to 
see all of you on hand at the first meeting of the 
Junior Organization.” 


TAKING THE BAIT 


51 


'‘We’ll be there, you can bet, Dick!” cried Peg, 
as he limped after the rest to resume his studies. 

That afternoon Leslie Capes caught up with 
Dick as the latter was hastening home from school. 

“I’m in a hurry to get home, Leslie,” said the 
latter, “but I wish you’d keep me company part of 
the way Somehow or other I haven’t had much 
chance to get a few words with you on the sly so 
as to tell you how our little plan is moving along.” 

“I’m just burning up with curiosity to know 
about that same, Dick. Has Old Nock/er run 
across little Billy yet?” 

“He certainly has,” replied Dick, promptly. “It 
happened yesterday. I showed Billy the very hole 
in the dividing fence through which we crawled 
on the Hallowe’en night, and, knowing Mr. 
Nocker was home at the time, I hid near so as to 
watch and see what happened.” 

“Well, please go on, Dick; you’ve got me all 
worked up,” pleaded Leslie. 

“Little Billy understood what he was to do, and 
wandered around the place, by degrees getting 
nearer and nearer the house. Then all at once I 
saw the old deacon hurrying out toward him. He 
looked cross, as if he meant to order the child off 
his grounds, and complain, in the bargain, to his 
parents if he ever trespassed again.” 

“But he didn’t, Dick; I know you’re going to say 
he didn’t,” urged Leslie. 


52 THE F. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


“Well, I could see him talking to little Billy 
for a while,” Dick went on. “Then he even bent 
down so as to get closer to him. Say, I warrant 
you there was something queer happening inside 
his frosty old heart just then. Perhaps he could 
see some familiar glimpse in little Billy’s blue 
eyes that made him think of the boy he once had.” 

“What do you think he could have said to 
Billy?” asked Leslie. 

“Oh ! I saw him pointing toward the Brandon 
house through the trees, for with the leaves off he 
could get a glimpse of it from where he stood. So 
I knew he must be asking if the little curly-head 
lived there.” 

“Yes, go on, Dick.” 

“Finally, I saw Billy start to come back, and 
would you believe it Old Jed actually laid a hand 
on his mop of golden hair. Like as not that was 
the first time he’d ever willingly touched a child 
since his Amos was a kid.” 

“Splendid, Dick I Things seem to be working 
along just as we planned them, don’t they?” 

“When the little boy walked away. Old Jed 
stood and stared after him. Then I saw him shake 
his head and go back in the direction of the house. 
But three times he turned and looked after Billy 
until the kid was lost to sight.” 

“And did you manage to find out what he said 
to the child, Dick?” 


TAKING THE BAIT 


53 


“Partly,” came the reply. “Billy told us the 
nice old gentleman had asked him who he was, and 
about his folks. Then as Billy was coming away 
Old Jed told him he must come again, and see him 
another day — tomorrow if it was pleasant.” 

At that Leslie almost doubled up. 

“The sly old fox has swallowed the bait, Dick !” 
he exclaimed, between laughs. “All you have to 
do now is to let him have rope enough, and he’ll 
be caught as neat as you please. When he’s got 
to just yearn for little Billy, it’ll be time to puli 
the string, and tell him he can only have the child’s 
company on condition that the mother is equally 
welcome in his home.” 

“I think myself that things begin to look kind 
of promising,” admitted Dick. “You must be sure 
to tell Uncle Henry all about it.” 

“I certainly will,” continued Leslie, “and my 
mother as well, because she’s in the secret too. But 
about that meeting called for tomorrow night — 
have you heard that Nat and several of his cron- 
ies mean to attend?” 

“If they do, it’ll be to make trouble for the rest 
of us, for they’ll try to break the meeting up,” 
said Dick, vehemently. “It would be only right 
if Mr. Holwell had the police chief present to keep 
things serene; but I suppose that wouldn’t look 
nice, seeing we would be in the Y. M. C. A. 


rooms. 


CHAPTER VII 


ORGANIZING THE BOYS' DEPARTlk«NT 

Along about a quarter to eight on the evening 
of the following day a number of eager lads 
might have been seen making their way In the di- 
rection of the central part of town. 

The building which had been taken for the use 
of the now firmly established Y. M. C. A. was 
fairly well adapted to the purpose, though a few 
changes had been made to suit the needs of the 
association. 

It was a substantial residence, with a hall in 
the center, and large rooms on either side. The 
extensive cellar had been made into a splendid 
gymnasium, where basket ball as well could be 
played on occasion. 

The double parlor made an excellent hall where 
entertainments were given, consisting of lectures 
and educational motion pictures. On the other 
side were two pleasant rooms where games, such 
as dominoes, chess and checkers, could be indulged 
in. 

Altogether, it was a most comfortable place to 


54 


THE BOYS* DEPARTMENT 


55 


spend the winter evenings. Even a billiard and 
a pool table had been installed, with the idea of 
keeping the young men from patronizing rooms 
where strong drink was apt to be sold. Better 
still, there was now a new bowling alley being built 
as an addition to the plant, which would prove 
unusually attractive to many fond of rolling. 

A number of boys traveling toward this center 
of interest came together at some little distance 
away. Dick nudged his chum, Leslie, when he saw 
that Nat Silmore and two of his chosen friends 
made up the other detachment. 

Nat seemed to be in a hilarious mood. Evi- 
dently, he was pleased over something or other, 
and whenever he laughed his cronies in duty bound 
joined in the merriment. 

“Seems like we’re all out on the same errand 
this beautiful night, eh, Dick?” he remarked, with 
a chuckle, as the two parties merged in one, and 
pushed on toward the building with its many lights. 

“Everybody’s doing it!” chanted Dit Hennesy, 
at which the trio gave a hearty laugh, and slapped 
one another roughly on the back, as though they 
were fairly bubbling over with glee, for some rea- 
son or other. 

Dick did not exactly like the signs. He had 
seen Nat in this condition before, and to his ob- 
serving mind it always presaged some sort of out- 
break that had a bold prank attached to it. 


56 THE F. M, C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOB 


His mind went back to a former occasion, when 
the big, overgrown boy had kept up his chuckling, 
though there seemed nothing humorous in the eyes 
of others; yet all of a sudden every light in the 
town hall had gone out, leaving Polly Cramer, 
who was in the midst of her graduation essay, al- 
most hysterical with fright. 

But then there was no necessity to pick a quar- 
rel with Nat. Surely Mr. Holwell ^nd big Harry 
Bartlett ought to be able to manage a wild team 
like Nat and Dit. 

“Well, this is a great night for the boys of Cliff- 
wood, according to my notion,” Dick remarked. 
“Pm only sorry for the fellows who can’t man- 
age to get into the new organization, for it prom- 
ises to be a big thing.” 

“Think so, do you?” sneered Nat. “Well, 
’cording to my mind there’s plenty of good times 
floatin’ all around, and you don’t have to sneeze 
every time Harry Bartlett or the minister takes 
snuff, to find ’em.” 

“But you’re going in tonight, aren’t you?” 
asked Dan Fenwick, who was tagging along at the 
heels of Dick and Leslie. 

“Sure we are,” replied the other, boisterously. 
“We took a notion we’d like to hear what’s on 
tap. Mebbe we’ll condescend to hand in our names 
along with the mob if it sounds good to us; mebbe 
we won’t. It all depends.” 


THE BOYS* DEPARTMENT 


57 


There was nothing funny about these words of 
Nat’s, and yet the other two boys thought fit to 
start laughing again as though they could not con- 
tain themselves. 

“Oh I you’ll have to please yourselves about 
that, I guess, Nat,” observed Dick, carelessly. 
“Nobody is going to be coaxed to join the club, 
as I understand it. So far as we’ve heard the plan 
outlined, I should say that the fellow who declines 
to enroll and obey the few rules is going to miss 
heaps of good times this winter.” 

“Huh! mebbe now you’re givin’ me a sly dig, 
Dick Horner,” grunted Nat, “when you talk ’bout 
obeying rules.” 

“No more than I was giving myself a knock, 
Nat, because IVe been a pretty lively customer 
and hard to curb, I own up. But if the cap fits, 
put it on, because there are going to be rules, and 
Mr. Holwell has said distinctly that unless they’re 
lived up to no fellow will be allowed to remain 
a member, even if he does join.” 

“Strikes me Mr. Holwell is goin’ to bite off 
more’n he can chew this time,” observed Nat, 
which started another series of loud chuckles from 
his “echoes.” 

“They mean trouble as sure as two and two 
are four,” whispered Leslie into Dick’s ear, as the 
three rough fellows fell back a few paces, appar- 
ently to hold a little confab of their own. 


58 THE Y, M, C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


“Let them start a rough-house prank if they 
want to,” said Dick, confidently. “I miss my guess 
if Mr. Holwell isn’t able to handle the crowd. He 
used to be on the college football squad years ago, 
and knows a thing, or two about hustling a dis- 
turber out of a meeting, even if he is a minister.” 

“If you asked me what I thought,” added Dan, 
eagerly, “I’d say there’s a little surprise waiting 
up for Nathan this very night; and for one I’ll 
be tickled half to death when it happens. It’s been 
due some time now, I expect.” 

“Well, here we are at the place,” remarked 
Dick; “so let’s forget all about such a thing as 
trouble.” 

When the boys found themselves inside the 
building it was to meet a score of their school- 
mates, all waiting in the big auditorium for the 
meeting to be called to order. In the upper part 
of the house were a couple of quiet reading rooms 
for those who did not wish to be disturbed by such 
noise as arose from the lovers of games. There 
were also accommodations for temporary shelter, 
where several young men could room during their 
search for work. 

Mr. Holwell and Harry Bartlett were present, 
looking more than gratified over such a good turn- 
out on the part of the boys of Cliffwood. The at- 
tendance seemed to insure the ultimate success of 
their new undertaking. 


THE BOYS* DEPARTMENT 


59 


‘‘Of course we must expect to meet with ob- 
stacles,” the minister was saying to his right-hand 
man; “perhaps plenty of them; for nothing worth 
while can be attained without great efforts. But 
with a splendid body of eager boys back of us 
there can be no such word as fail in our lexicon.” 

When eight o’clock came, the meeting was 
promptly called to order by Mr. Holwell. He 
found himself faced by nearly a score and a half 
of boys, most of them anxious to qualify for mem- 
bership in the new organization. 

Some of them with older brothers in the regu- 
lar Y. M. C. A. had long envied the good times 
the Seniors seemed to have under that hospitable 
roof. Now that a chance had come whereby they 
too were to be given a share in the pleasures and 
entertainments that enlivened the dull winter 
months there was no lack of enthusiasm exhibited 
on every hand. 

Nat Silmore and his cronies kept close together. 
Dick now and then cast a look in their direction, 
and wondered if they really would have the nerve 
to try and give Mr. Holwell trouble. Knowing 
the effrontery of Nat so well, he had a strong sus- 
picion that something was brewing. 

“Most of you already know the main object of 
this meeting,” said Mr. Holwell, after his upraised 
hand had called for silence. “Some of us a bit 
ago came to the conclusion that the growing boys 


60 THEY.M.C. A.BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 

of Cliffwood had been neglected too long, and that 
it was high time something was done to give them 
much more pleasure than can be found on the 
streets of nights. So we are now about to offer 
all of you the opportunity of becoming junior mem- 
bers of the Y. M.C. A.” 

At that Dick led the cheering, and quite a tu- 
mult arose. It was to be noticed, however, that 
Nat and his two followers did not join in the ap- 
plause. Dick wondered why this should be; he 
was already suspicious of them, for he could see 
Dit nudging Nat in the ribs and grinning, where- 
upon the big fellow shook his head, as though he 
might be curbing the impatience of his followers. 

When Mr. Holwell elevated his hand again the 
cheering stopped as if by magic. Every fellow 
leaned forward and listened to hear what was com- 
ing next. 

“Any boy living in or around Cliffwood can 
become a member in full standing of our Junior 
Organization,” continued the minister, “provided 
he pays an initiation fee of two dollars, earned 
by himself, and the monthly dues of twenty-five 
cents. He must be between the ages of eight and 
eighteen years of age, and will have to subscribe 
to the few general rules whereby he promises to 
behave himself as becomes a member of th Y. M. 
C. A. These rules you will find on the cards I 
shall give out later on.” 


THE BOYS' DEPARTMENT 


61 


As he paused it gave the assembly another 
chance to let loose with three cheers. Mr. Hol- 
well did not try to stop them. He knew that boys 
must find a vent for their enthusiasm in some fash- 
ion, when too full to keep still. 

“Those who join will be entitled to nearly all 
the privileges of this building, such as the gym- 
nasium on certain occasions, the swimming pool 
that, with the bowling alleys, is being fitted up for 
immediate use ; and will be allowed to attend such 
lectures and entertainments as are considered suit- 
able for boys of their age.” 

A third whirlwind of applause interrupted the 
speaker. That manifestation of approval pleased 
the big-hearted minister more than anything else. 
He knew that he had secured a firm hold on the 
hearts and affections of most of these lively lads ; 
and no doubt had visions of the great good his 
latest plan was bound to bring about for the 
younger generation of Cliffwood. 

“As time passes,” he went on to tell them, “there 
will arise various ways of enlisting your hearty co- 
operation in the work. I have already suggested 
one scheme that I am pleased to say seems to have 
met the approval of the committee in charge of en- 
tertainments. 

“Perhaps all of you may not know that in my 
younger years, before I ever thought of preach- 
ing the Gospel, I belonged to a minstrel company 


62 THE F. M. C. A. BOVS OF CLIFFWOOD 


that was more or less of a success in its traveling 
career. Now my plan is to have the boys of the 
Y. M. C. A. give a refined show of this sort, in 
which nearly every one of you can take some part. 
It is also proposed to offer a cash prize of twenty- 
five dollars in gold to the boy who can get up the 
best original farce suited for minstrel work, the 
entertainment committee being the judges. More 
particulars of this plan will be given out at the 
meeting of the club next week.’* 

‘Will every member be permitted to enter this 
competition, sir?” asked Dick. 

“There will be no restriction,” continued Mr. 
Holwell, “and every boy who belongs to the jun- 
ior league of the association is entitled to try for 
the reward. Only it must be understood that all 
work must be original. And now if you are ready 
to register your names as candidates for acceptance 
we will see how many can be enrolled tonight.” 

As before, there were cheers from the boys, but 
this time the din became really frightful. Nat and 
his two cronies had produced harsh sirens from 
their pockets, and persisted in blowing them to the 
utmost extent of their lungs. 

In vain Mr. Holwell and Harry Bartlett held 
up their hands to implore silence. Most of the 
boys stopped cheering, but the three kept up their 
racket as though bent on breaking up the meeting 
then and there. 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE FIGHTING PARSON 

“Silence!” 

Dick could see Mr. Holwell’s lips form this 
word, but his voice was utterly unable to rise 
above the horrible din produced by the three 
hoarse sirens blown in company, with might and 
main by the plotters. Nat and his companions 
wer;e turning red in the face with their efforts, 
yet gave no sign of slowing up. 

Leslie gripped Dick’s arm. He was furious 
with indignation, and had Dick given him the sig- 
nal, no doubt he stood ready to hurl himself on 
the nearest disturber of the meeting, and try to 
snatch the instrument '^f ear torture from his 
grasp. 

Apparently, the minister had reached the end 
of his patience. He doubtless realized that this 
din was not occasioned through simple boyish en- 
thusiasm, but must mark a well-arranged plot to 
break up the first meeting of the Boys’ Depart- 
ment. 

The very fact that Nat led the disturbers of 


63 


64 THE F. M, C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


the peace was highly significant, for the Silmore 
boy’s reputation was anything but savory in the 
annals of Cliffwood’s rising generation. 

If Nat counted on Mr. Holwell being a man 
of peace because he wore the garb of a minister, 
he made one of the greatest mistakes of his life. 
Those who knew the reverend gentleman better 
could have told him that for a man of his years 
he was as fine an athlete as could be found in that 
section of the country. 

Harry Bartlett was now alongside Mr. Holwell. 
His face was white with indignation, and his eyes 
sparkled dangerously. Watching anxiously, Dick 
saw the minister suddenly turn toward the Y. M. 
C. A. leader, and nod his head. He may have 
spoken something at the same time, though only 
Harry heard it. 

Promptly the two of them pounced upon Nat 
and Dit, who, though taken somewhat by sur- 
prise, made a desperate resistance. They were as 
pigmies in the hands of the two men, who hustled 
them toward the door in great shape, accompanied 
by the loud cheers of the assembled boys. 

The third young ruffian, seeing Dick and Les- 
lie making in his direction, promptly threw up his 
arms to indicate that he surrendered, and then 
bolted for the exit. 

When he reached the door, Mr. Holwell held 
up a hand again to call for silence, and then sternly 


THE FIGHTING PARSON 


65 


addressed the boy who was squirming in his iron 
grip, amazed at having been handled so vigorously 
by the man of peace. 

“If any of you give me the least trouble again 
tonight,” was what he told Nat, “I promise to call 
the Chief of Police up on the ’phone, and have 
him lock you up at the station. And you can never 
enter these doors again as a prospective member 
of the Boys’ League until you have written me an 
abject apology for your outrageous conduct to- 
night. Now be off with you !” 

With that he gave Nat a push and sent him out- 
side the open door. Nat immediately took to his 
heels, in which act he was quickly copied by his 
two running mates. Dick saw him turn and look 
back over his shoulder as he ran away, and won- 
dered whether the fist he shook in the air could 
have been intended as a threat for himself or Mr. 
Holwell. 

Just then, however, he gave the matter no fur- 
ther thought, for he was too full of excitement to 
bother about small things like Nat Silmore’s re- 
sentment. 

The boys once more trooped into the room and 
resumed their seats. Mr. Holwell looked as calm 
as ever, though he and Harry Bartlett exchanged 
a humorous smile or two. Indeed, Dick found 
himself wondering if the elder gentleman might 
not really have enjoyed forgetting his peaceful 


66 THE F. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


calling for a brief moment, and proving himself a 
muscular Christian, ready to stand up for the 
right. 

The names were taken down in regular order, 
for the boys proved eager to enter themselves as 
prospective members of the new organization. 
Many had come provided with the money for the 
small initiation fee ; others were promised a chance 
to earn it in due time, and entered under that ar- 
rangement. 

“I do not want a single boy present to feel that 
he is being debarred from joining tonight,” Mr. 
Holwell announced, on seeing several hang back. 
“Be frank with me, and tell me what you aim to 
do so as to earn the amount necessary to pay your 
initiation fee. I have some plans arranged, 
through the kindness of several friends, and no lad 
need lack for a chance to enlist if he wants to be- 
come one of us.” 

It ended in every fellow having his name taken 
down. A number knew of others not present who 
were deeply interested, and, of course, they were 
enjoined to act as missionaries, so as to lengthen 
the roster of the Boys’ Club. 

“I’d be only too well pleased,” said Mr. Hol- 
well, after all these details had been settled, “if 
every boy of a suitable age in and around Cliff- 
wood belonged to this new association, because I 
feel sure it is bound to afford you all some of the 


THE FIGHTING PARSON 


67 


happiest evenings of yonr lives. We intend to 
do everything within reason to make this a pleas- 
ant home for our boys, and in return only ask them 
to deal candidly with us. We put you on your 
honor to stand by the rules, and ask nothing be- 
yond that.” 

The meeting broke up by nine o’clock, for some 
of the boys were young, and their parents would 
not care to have them out later than this. Dick 
and Leslie walked homeward together, for they 
did not live far away from one another. Dan 
had been compelled to hurry off, as there was com- 
pany at his house, with something of a “feast” 
so dear to the heart of the average boy, which he 
did not care to miss. 

“Well, what do you think of the prospects of the 
new organization?” asked Leslie, as he and Dick 
walked along, arm in arm. 

“Bully!” exclaimed the other, with just such en- 
thusiasm as one of his nature would be expected 
to display. “Twenty-six names on the roll call 
already, and more coming. It’s already a big suc- 
cess, and Mr. Holwell looks as proud as if he’d 
won a prize.” 

“He’s a fine man, Dick, a splendid man!” de- 
clared Leslie. “I always felt that he was the best 
friend the boys of this town ever had. But say, I 
was never so tickled in all my life as when he 
grabbed Nat by the scruff of his coat, and yanked 


68 THE F. M. C, A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


him along to the door. Why, Nat, big bully as he 
is, was like a pullet in the grip of Mr. Holwell.” 

“And did you see how the minister’s eyes flashed 
when he was taking Nat across the floor?” burst 
out Dick, with a chuckle of glee. “I guess just 
for that minute he must have forgotten all about 
his calling, and was just plain Tom Holwell again, 
left tackle of the Princeton football squad of years 
ago. Wow ! it was rich, let me tell you.” 

Leslie seemed to be just as much amused as his 
chum, for he too laughed heartily as they tramped 
along. The minister had made a new place for 
himself that night, strange to say, in the hearts 
of numerous boys. 

“And don’t forget,” continued Dick, “that 
Harry Bartlett was right in the same class with 
Mr. Holwell. The way he jumped on Dit and 
yanked him out of his seat was good for sore eyes. 
Why, I picked up Dit’s siren from the floor, where 
he dropped it in his big scare. Guess they didn’t 
think that gun was loaded, and when it went off 
with a bang, they got a shock all right!” 

“How about that prize of twenty-five dollars 
to be offered for the best original black-face farce, 
Dick; think of having a look-in there?” asked Les- 
lie, who happened to know that the other occa- 
sionally indulged in concocting stories, and, indeed, 
had always been considered the best composition 
writer in the Cliffwood schools. 


THE FIGHTING PARSON 


69 


haven’t thought much about that yet,” re- 
plied Dick, slowly. “I must say it sounds good 
to me. I believe I could get up a farce that would 
be full of fun, and clean fun at that. And Leslie, 
that money would come in mighty handy to me. I 
really need a new suit for one thing, and Grand- 
pop’s pension spreads out pretty thin when it has 
to cover so much.” 

“But every time I mention the fact that my 
Uncle Henry would be just tickled to lend you any 
sum you wanted, Dick ” 

“That’s enough, Leslie,” hastily interrupted the 
other boy, laying a hand on his chum’s arm, while 
his voice trembled a little, though in the darkness 
no one could see the tears that gathered in his 
eyes. “I told you before I couldn’t come down 
to accepting charity, for that’s what it would 
really be, though both of you are mighty kind to 
offer such a thing.” 

“Only a loan, Dick, you know; and you 
shouldn’t be so touchy over it.” 

“Excuse me, Leslie,” said Dick, drawing in a 
long breath. “Perhaps most fellows would look 
at it that way, and accept your offer only too 
gladly. I might too if it was for my mother, or 
Sue; but not for myself. I’d rather go in patched 
clothes all my life than knuckle down. Oh, yes, 
I am proud, and perhaps foolish, but I just can’t 
help it, so don’t say any more.” 


70 THE F. M, C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


Evidently, Leslie knew his chum well enough 
to feel certain that argument would not change 
his determination, once he had set his mind on a 
certain course. On that account then, Les- 
lie dropped the subject, though it was often troub- 
ling him; and he hoped some way would yet be 
found whereby the Horner family might be as- 
sisted without Dick feeling that he was an object 
of charity. 

“What’s the report from the Brandon place to- 
night, Dick?” he asked, in order to turn the con- 
versation into another channel, as well as satisfy 
his own curiosity. 

“Everything is moving along as fine as silk,” 
his chum replied, cheerfully. 

“Old Jed has seen little Billy again then, has 
he?” continued Leslie. 

“Not a day passes during this fine weather but 
they meet,” he was told. “Why, it seems to me the 
old man hurries home early in the afternoon more 
than he used to do, just as if he was looking for- 
ward to seeing the little chap come along through 
the bushes.” 

“Oh ! I hope it turns out all right in the end,” 
said Leslie. “I was telling my mother what we’d 
done, for she will keep it a secret, believe me.” 

“What did she think of the plan?” demanded 
Dick, anxiously, for he had considerable respect 
for the opinions of his chum’s mother. 


THE FIGHTING PARSON 


71 


‘‘Why,** replied the other boy, quickly, “she 
took to it right from the start, and said it was just 
the finest plan she had ever heard of.” 

“Well,** continued Dick, confidently, “it*s Mr. 
Nocker’s last chance to come in out of the wet.” 

“Listen !’* exclaimed Leslie, just then, clutching 
his chum*s coat sleeve. 

“What did you hear?’* asked the other. 

“I thought it was a chuckle,” replied Leslie, 
“but I guess it must have been an engine whistling 
away oyer at the Barrtown crossing. You see this 
is the only lonely place we’ve got to pass on the 
way home, and if those fellows training with Nat 
should take a notion to lay for us, it’d be around 
this section.” 

“What gives you the idea they’d bother doing 
that?” demanded Dick, who himself had been 
thinking along the same lines. 

“Oh ! well, it*d be just like Nat to want to have 
revenge on somebody for being thrown out of the 
meeting tonight. And I happen to know he hates 
you more than he does any other boy in Cliffwood. 
Better edge a little further away from that bunch 
of bushes, Dick. There, what did I tell you?” 

Leslie’s last words were drowned in a series of 
harsh cries that sprang from a party of boyish fig- 
ures breaking from the suspicious bushes, and leap- 
ing toward the two who were on the road leading 
to their separate homes. 


CHAPTER IX 


IN SELF-DEFENSE 

“Look out, Dick; here’s trouble!” burst from 
the lips of Leslie Capes, as he saw the dim forms 
of several boys rushing toward him and his chum. 

Neither of them seemed to think of turning and 
running away. Perhaps it was not in their natures 
to flee from such a visible danger as now con- 
fronted them ; for a boy has a peculiar idea of what 
constitutes his sense of honor, and “showing the 
white feather” is usually considered next door to 
cowardly. 

Besides, they easily guessed the identity of the 
fellows who aimed to attack them. In the first 
place they were three in number, and both Dick 
and Leslie remembered that Nat Silmore had had 
two of his cronies with him when ejected so forci- 
bly from the Y. M. C. A. building. 

It was true that the assailants had tried to con- 
ceal part of their faces with their handkerchiefs, 
a trick they may have learned from seeing it done 
in moving pictures of Western holdups. Dit had 
a peculiar way of hunching himself along as he 


7* 


IN SELF-DEFENSE 


73 


ran, with one shoulder in advance of his body, 
and this trait was so well known to his school- 
mates that Dick quickly recognized it now. 

As has been said before, it was rather dark 
where the ambuscade had been laid. The bare 
bushes were dense, and several trees shut out such 
light as the stars dotting the sky overhead chanced 
to give. 

Both boys drew themselves up in a position of 
self-defense. They had not done anything to in- 
vite this treacherous attack on the part of Nat’s 
crowd; and at the same time they scorned to flee, 
with the jeers of the enemy ringing in their ears. 

Indeed, there was not much time given them 
to lay any elaborate plan of campaign. Hardly 
had they backed up against each other, so as to 
show a united front, than the enemy launched its 
attack. 

Nat must have forgotten such lessons as he had 
learned on the football field, regarding the force 
and value of a “flying wedge,” for all of them 
came along in a string, each fellow for himself. 

In that way it was easier for the two who were 
on the defensive to hold their ground. Both boys 
were fairly well versed in boxing, for athletics 
had always been a favorite amusement with them. 

“That’s one for you I” snapped Dick, as he de- 
livered a blow with all his might, that hurled the 
leading figure back several paces. 


74 THE Y, M,C. A, BOYS OF CLIFF WOOD 

“Oh!” this fellow was heard to exclaim, as he 
hastily put his hand up to his face, perhaps to as- 
certain whether his nose had started to bleeding. 

Meanwhile, the other two had closed in, and 
there began a swift exchange of blows in which 
Dick and Leslie seemed able to hold their own, 
though one of the assailants, undoubtedly Nat, 
loomed up almost a head above either of them, 
and had an extra long reach. 

He was so clumsy in his fighting, however, that 
he could not duck fast enough to avoid severe pun- 
ishment, and every time Dick landed a blow he 
could hear Nat give a grunt, as of mingled sur- 
prise and pain. 

Of course, the two who were acting on the de- 
fensive did not come off unscathed in such a gruel- 
ling contest. They stopped numerous uppercuts 
with their bodies, but through their knowledge of 
boxing managed to avoid the worst of the pun- 
ishment. 

For a full minute it was a pretty lively affair 
all around. The first fellow had come out of his 
daze, after receiving that severe jolt; and, burn- 
ing with a desire to retaliate, was trying to work 
around so as to attack the enemy in the rear, while 
his comrades held their attention in front. 

Things might have gone somewhat hard with 
Dick and his chum, for the conflict was uneven, 
the odds in favor of the foe. Neither of them 


IN SELF-DEFENSE 


75 


dreamed of shouting out at the top of their lungs, 
calling for help. Indeed, no doubt they would 
much rather have taken a beating than to exhibit 
such weakness. 

It was just at this stage of the struggle, when 
things were looking a little gloomy for the chums, 
that Leslie happened to strike his foot against 
something lying on the ground. 

He could not see what it was, but some intui- 
tion told him he would be well paid if he could 
find a chance to suddenly stoop, and groping with 
his hand, investigate. 

When his eager fingers closed upon quite a stout 
paling that must have been knocked from the 
weather-beaten fence near by, he felt like giving 
a whoop of sheer delight. 

It was all in the game, and Leslie knew no rea- 
son why he should not avail himself of this splen- 
did opportunity for evening the score. Three 
against two seemed heavy odds, according to his 
mind ; and really that paling must have been lying 
there for just the purpose to which he now meant 
to put it. 

Giving another cry of delight he proceeded to 
assail the astonished and bewildered trio. Every 
time the cudgel descended there was a howl of 
pain, and it was wonderful how quickly the en- 
thusiasm of the three assailants oozed out. As 
Leslie continued to belabor them right and left 


76 THE Y. M.C, A. BOYS OF CLIFF WOOD 


they lost all desire to attack, and thought only of 
beating a rapid retreat. 

The patter of their fleeing footsteps died away 
in the near distance, and the two panting chums 
held the battlefield in triumph. 

“Wow! that was lively while it lasted, I tell 
you I” exclaimed Leslie, between puffs. “I’m only 
sorry I didn’t get in as many hard licks on Nat as 
I wanted. But he dodged after that first crack.” 

“That was a lucky find of yours, I must say 1” 
declared Dick. “You’d better keep that old pal- 
ing and hang it up in your den, decorated with a 
blue ribbon, for it certainly took the cake.” 

“We’d have fared badly only for my luck in run- 
ning across it. I’m afraid,” ventured Leslie, caress- 
ing his “lucky find” as though he had already con- 
ceived more or less affection for the stick of wood. 

“Yes, for both of us were getting winded, and 
say what you will, three against two are big odds,” 
agreed Dick. 

“But what under the sun did they do it for?” 
demanded the other, with a vein of wonder, as well 
as indignation, in his voice. “We hadn’t anything 
especial to do with their being thrown out tonight 
— that is, more than the rest of the fellows.” 

“Oh! I can explain that all right,” Dick told 
him, without any hesitation. 

“I wish you would then,” urged Leslie, “because 
it’s all Greek to me.” 



THE PATTER OF THEIR FLEEING FOOTSTEPS DIED AWAY. 
The Y. M. C. A. Boys of Cliffwood Page 76 



t 

I 


9 



A 


t, 



* » 




IN SELF-DEFENSE 


77 


“If you studied human nature more you 
wouldn’t have any trouble seeing through a mill- 
stone that had a hole in it,” chuckled Dick. “It’s 
a queer thing, but I’ve seen it crop up in little chaps 
not more than three years old.” 

“As how?” continued the other. 

“Ever notice some urchin trip, and fall so as 
to hurt himself, and how after he scrambles to his 
feet he kicks viciously at the nearest person? He 
knows it was all his own fault, and yet seeks to 
lay the blame on some one else. Well, Nat is built 
in just that same way, according to my idea.” 

“H’m, let’s see if I get you there, Dick,” re- 
marked Leslie, slowly. “You mean that he knows 
he was kicked out of the meeting by Harry Bart- 
lett and Mr. Holwell, but being afraid to strike 
back at them, he made up his mind to get his re- 
venge by tackling you — for I believe they thought 
you’d be coming along here alone and they could 
jump on you in a bunch. Is that the idea, Dick?” 

“You’ve got it right, Leslie,” admitted the 
other, promptly. “Nat just hates me because up 
to now he’s never been able to down me, though 
it hasn’t been from lack of trying on his part, you 
understand.” 

“Well, he can write down another failure,” 
laughed Leslie, tenderly caressing his left cheek 
where a stray blow had glanced aside, though leav- 
ing a slight abrasion of the skin. 


78 THE F. M, C, A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


“Thanks to you, mostly,” added Dick, slapping 
his chums on the back heartily. 

“My club, you mean,” corrected the other has- 
tily. “As a general thing I like to fight fair, but 
when you’re outnumbered, and things look pretty 
dark, then’s the time ‘clubs are trumps,’ according 
to my notion.” 

“If you meet up with any of those fellows to- 
morrow, take notice and see if they have a pair of 
black eyes among them,” said Dick. 

“I’m pretty sure one has!” declared his chum, 
“for I saw you give him a straight-from-the- 
shoulder crack square in the face. How he did 
howl!” 

“That must have been my first one, then,” 
agreed Dick. “I think the fellow I got was Dit 
Hennesy, for I noticed his gait when he rushed us 
like a mad bull.” 

“Shall we go on now?” asked his chum. 

“Well, we might as well, because they don’t 
mean to come back and try a second round with 
us. The creek lies in that direction, and unless I 
miss my guess, by this time they’re laving their 
bruises with cold water, and telling each other how 
they’d have downed us only for you picking up that 
paling.” 

Leslie did not throw the “lucky find” away. 
Perhaps he meant to take Dick’s advice, and keep 
it in a post of honor in his den at home. Then 


IN SELF-DEFENSE 


79 


when he had boy visitors he could point to it with 
pride as he narrated the story of the hold-up. 

“Want me to cross over lots with you to your 
house, Dick?” he asked, presently, when they had 
reached the spot where their trails separated, Dick 
having to scale a fence and cross a field in order 
to reach his own home. 

“Well, I should say not if I know it,” he re- 
plied, laughingly. “Things have come to a pretty 
pass if a fellow can’t peep out nights without hav- 
ing an armed guard and retainer at his side. No 
more danger from that crowd, for tonight any- 
way, Leslie. See you in the morning.” 

“Don’t get thinking too hard about that farce 
business, Dick,” cautioned the other boy; “or you’ll 
lie awake nights losing sleep. But if you do make 
up your mind to go in for that prize I’d like to 
wager you’ll land it.” 

“I wish I could believe that as easy as you do, 
Leslie,” sighed Dick, thinking what a fine thing it 
would be for him to have twenty-five dollars of his 
own to spend just as wished, even though most of 
it must go for the clothes he needed badly. 

“And don’t forget, Dick, Mr. Holwell was 
particular to say the prize would be in ^old. Why, 
for one, I don’t believe I ever saw that much 
money in gold, outside of a bank. It’s worth work- 
ing for. I only wish I was a better hand at com- 
position, and getting up jokes.” 


80 THE F. M. C, A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


‘‘Why not try, anyhow, Leslie?” urged Dick. 
“The more there are in the competition the bet- 
ter Mr. Holwell will be pleased. And for all your 
modesty it might turn out that your farce was the 
best of the bunch.” 

“Oh! well, p’raps I may try it, just for fun,” 
agreed the other. “But if it reads as silly as I’m 
afraid it will, you’ll find me putting a match to it 
in a hurry.” 

“Let some one else be the judge before you do 
that,” suggested Dick. “No fellow knows what 
he can do till he tries his level best.” 

“I won’t make any promises,” was the way Les- 
lie modestly “hedged,” for he happened to be one 
of those boys who shrink from being laughed at. 

So the two chums separated, Dick calling out at 
the last: 

“If your face smarts a whole lot, Leslie, bathe 
it in cold water, and then lay a rag saturated with 
witch hazel on it when you’re in bed. It’ll pay to 
look after it tonight.” 

“Guess I will,” came back from the semi-dark- 
ness; and then Dick, whistling a strain or two of 
a favorite melody, started across the field toward 
his house, which was not so far away from that of 
his chum but that they had a home-made telephone 
connecting the two, over which many an interesting 
confab was held from time to time. 


CHAPTER X 


NAT ENTERS THE LIST 

The days passed, and November was half gone. 

Two more meetings had been held in the big 
room of the Y. M. C. A. building, and fully thirty 
boys’ nam£s were on the roll of the new Junior 
Department. Some of these fellows belonged to 
poor families, but they were just the ones Mr. Hol- 
well had most in mind when he first conceived the 
clever idea of starting a Boys’ League inside the 
association. 

He had found numerous ways in which to help 
those whose folks could not really afford to let 
their boys join. Three fellows were given jobs 
in connection with the care of the building, for it 
happened that the association did not have a regu- 
lar janitor to look after the furnace, and sweep 
out, as well as keep the windows clean. 

Temporary positions were found for two more 
in the restaurant next door, and it seemed as if 
Mr. Holwell might prove himself equal to every 


81 


82 THE F. M. C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


emergency that could arise, for he never allowed 
anything to daunt him. 

From the beginning the new movement ap- 
peared to meet with success. It was quite notice- 
able how few boys were to be seen loitering on the 
streets since the Junior Department had come into 
existence. The Chief of Police admitted that 
complaints of practical pranks being played upon 
citizens of the town, or farmers living nearby, 
were getting to be a rare occurrence. 

Of course, Mr. Holwell was greatly pleased 
with the measure of success that seemed to have 
already followed his attempt to better conditions 
in Cliffwood. He knew, however, that there must 
be no slackening of the good work, or things would 
begin to go down hill again; for there was an in- 
visible pulling against the new order of things, 
which might come from the lower elements of the 
town. 

Every night as many as a score of boys could 
be seen either reading books or the latest maga- 
zines or engaged in playing dominoes, checkers or 
chess in the comfortable rooms of the Y. M. C. A. 
building. 

Then there was a weekly lecture to which they 
were usually invited, if the subject happened to 
be of a nature suitable to their years. The swim- 
ming pool had also been completed, and the 
younger members of the association had the privi- 


NAT ENTERS THE LIST 


83 


lege of using this on certain afternoons when one 
of the older boys could be on hand to keep order. 
He had also to see that no fellow took any chances 
of catching cold, to avoid which the shower was 
always required after coming out of the warmer 
water. 

Down in the gymnasium they had splendid times 
when allowed to enjoy themselves, and many a 
boy began to show cheeks of a ruddier hue on ac- 
count of the work done there under the eye of a 
competent instructor. 

Not only this, but several boys who had until 
then rejected the friendly advances of Mr. Hol- 
well were influenced to enter their names on the 
roll, when they learned what glorious times those 
who already belonged were having. This was 
just what the big-hearted minister wanted. He 
felt positive that they would soon change their 
ways, after getting to know him better. 

Indeed, everything seemed to be working along 
famously. Even Nat and Dit had concluded that 
they would be silly to deny themselves the splen- 
did privileges afforded by the Y. M. C. A. build- 
ing when they could be obtained by a simple little 
written apology. 

So one day Mr. Holwell was surprised, and 
pleased as well, no doubt, to receive a letter by 
mail, signed by Nat Silmore, Dit Hennesy and 
Alonzo Crane, in which the trio declared they 


84 THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


were truly sorry they had annoyed the good man 
on that former occasion. They promised that if 
he would forgive them, and allow them to send 
in their names, they would surely obey the rules of 
the association. 

Perhaps even Mr. Holwell may have had ser- 
ious doubts as to the genuine nature of their re- 
formation. He must have guessed that the main 
thing with Nat was to be able to enjoy the various 
pleasant gatherings afforded by the new associa- 
tion. But Mr. Holwell was always ready to give 
a fellow another chance, and he hastened to seek 
an interview with each of the three obstreperous 
signers of the “apology.” 

It ended in their being admitted to membership 
in the Boys’ Department, much to the chagrin of 
some of the older members, who among them- 
selves prophesied all sorts of dire disasters as 
the inevitable result. 

“They’re just coming in so as to upset things,” 
declared Dan Fenwick to several of his best 
friends when they found Nat and the other two 
having the time of their lives on the parallel bars 
one evening, and grinning openly at each fresh ar- 
rival as if to say tauntingly: “Thought you’d keep 
us out, didn’t you? But you’ve got another guess 
coming, see !” 

Harry Bartlett did not fully share in the hopes 
of Mr. Holwell regarding the possible “turning 


NAT ENTERS THE LIST 


85 


over of a new leaf” on the part of Nat. He knew 
the youth to be “a tough case,” and believed that 
when he had exhausted the pleasures of the new 
order of things, they would hear from him again 
in the shape of some of his notorious tricks. 

So the leader of the Y. M. C. A. made up his 
mind to say nothing, but to keep his eye closely on 
Nat. And he was firmly resolved that at the first 
sign of trouble the unruly fellow should be shown 
the door. 

Dick was already busily engaged on his farce. 
The rules of the game had been laid down plainly 
by Mr. Holwell at the last weekly meeting. 

“Every member in good standing of the Boys’ 
Department is entitled to a chance to win the 
prize,” he had told them. “The farce is to be not 
only wholly original, even to the jokes, words of 
songs and choruses, but it must be clean, and en- 
tirely unobjectionable. Nothing that could offend 
your mothers and sisters will be tolerated for a 
minute. It is intended for at least eight princi- 
pals to take separate parts, and the copy must be 
handed in two weeks from today, so we can prac- 
tice before the Christmas holidays.” 

When some of the eager boys who meant to 
try for the rich prize evinced a strong desire for 
more information, Mr. Holwell continued his re- 
marks. 

“The committee will read every farce submit- 


86 THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS 01^ CLIFFWOOD 

ted, and if there are two that seen to be of about 
equal merit the mayor of Cliffwood has kindly con- 
sented to act as umpire so as to decide which is the 
better. I have also agreed to serve as adviser to 
the committee ; and I want it to be known that no 
favorites will be played.” 

“Hurrah I” cried the listening boys, though ev- 
ery one knew full well even before Mr. Holwell 
said this that the awarding of the golden prize 
would be done fairly, because he was a square man. 

“Every tub will have to stand on '^s own bot- 
tom, you understand,” continued the minister, 
looking down into the faces of the score and more 
of boys occupying seats in front of him. “And 
may the best fellow win is the wish of not only my- 
self, but the committee, and every one interested 
in this work.” 

To the astonishment, and amusement as well, of 
some of the boys, Nat Silmore, the night he joined, 
openly announced his intentiop of competing for 
the prize. 

“Grin all you want to,” he told some of the boys 
who had gathered near him later in that evening 
when he and his cronies had become members of 
the Junior League; “but all the same I’ve got a 
hunch you’ll laugh on the other side of your mouths 
when you find out how easy I’m goin’ to run away 
with that yellow stuff.” 

“But you never were much of a success at school 


NAT ENTERS THE LIST 


87 


in composition, you know, Nat,” remarked Phil 
Harkness. ^‘So what makes you think you can 
beat the rest of us, with one hand tied down?” 

Nat winked knowingly as he answered this ques- 
tion. 

“Oh! mebbe IVe been practicin’ on the sly all 
this time,” he told them with a nod of his head. 
“P’raps I discovered I had a reg’lar gift ’long the 
line of makin’ up jokes and crackin’ lively puns. 
Huh! you just wait and see what happens. I’m 
just gettin’ to find myself, I reckon. Some of 
these days you’ll see folks take off their hats when 
they speak of Nat Silmore, the celebrated author !” 

It was hard to know just what Nat meant when 
he talked like this. Even Mr. Holwell might have 
been deceived by his apparent earnestness, indulg- 
ing in the hope that the bully of Cliffwood had 
actually begun to see a light, and realized it paid 
to be decent after all. 

As for the boys, they were all at sea, and the 
subject often came up when two or three of them 
got together to talk things over. 

“It’ll pay to keep your eye on Nat,” was the 
sage comment of Dan Fenwick that same evening, 
when they were getting ready to go home. “He’s 
got something going in that shrewd brain of his, 
I take it. He’ll surprise us by springing a prank, 
or else by actually copping that prize.” 

“Wake me up when he does that last,” laughed 


88 THE F. M. C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


Leslie. “He’ll play second fiddle to a lot of us 
besides Dick, who have set out to have a fling for 
the money.” 

Dick himself did not feel at all uneasy. He was 
coming along finely with his farce, and already be- 
gan to entertain high hopes that it would land the 
prize. As Leslie was himself laboring with con- 
siderable vim to compose a similar effort, of course 
Dick could not read any of his work to his best 
chum, so he took it out on his folks at home, all 
of whom declared that it was “just splendid.” 

As usual the two boys walked home together. 

“One good thing I can see about Nat joining 
the club,” ventured Leslie, as they sauntered along 
leisurely, “is the fact that for the time being it 
may keep him out of mischief. For instance, here 
we are taking it easy going home, without any fear 
of being suddenly pelted with a shower of rocks, 
or having some trick played on us.” 

“I hope that Mr. Holwell won’t be disap- 
pointed,” ventured Dick, who was very fond of the 
minister, as were most of the boys; “because I 
can see he is beginning to believe Nat’s changing 
his ways. Some of us boys would like to see that 
same thing, but we’ll only believe it when he’s 
proved himself sincere.” 

“And Dick, I don’t believe Nat’s forgiven us 
for the way we upset his little game on the night 
he waylaid us,” continued Leslie. “You remem- 


NAT ENTERS THE LIST 


89 


her both Nat and Dit did have a black eye apiece 
the next day, though they claimed to have gotten 
them by running against something in the dark. 
We knew what it was they struck; and most of the 
other fellows did too.” 

“Yes, I saw him looking pretty hard at me more 
than once,” admitted Dick, “and could give a good 
guess what he was thinking he’d like to do while I 
was hanging head-down from the trapeze. But 
both of us will always be careful whenever Nat’s 
in the gymnasium.” 

“How about our scheme, Dick?” continued Les- 
lie. “You keep on telling me that hardly a day 
passes without little Billy wandering over into 
Old Jed Nocker’s yard and meeting the deacon. 
By this time it strikes me the crabbed old man must 
have begun to get pretty much interested in our 
Billy.” 

“Oh I he certainly is,” came the prompt reply, 
“and has even been questioning the little chap 
about his mother, whom he knows simply as the 
Widow Smith, and has only glimpsed through the 
trees as she walked about the Brandon grounds.” 

“Then you’ll be wanting to spring the trap be- 
fore a great while, I reckon?” pursued Leslie, 
eagerly. 

“Better wait until we’re sure he’s fallen head 
over heels into the pit,” urged Dick. “The 
weather has been mighty fine for November. 


90 THE Y, M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


There was one day though when Billy was kept in 
because he was a little off his feed, and would you 
believe it, along about four in the afternoon there 
came over to the Brandon place the man servant 
Mr. Nocker has, fetching a polite little note ask- 
ing the mother to assure him that the dear child 
was all right, as he had missed him very much.” 

“Fine, Dick!” exclaimed Leslie. “I’d like to see 
them together if it could be arranged.” 

“You shall, and tomorrow at that,” replied 
Dick. “We’ll go together and hide in the bushes 
while little Billy wanders through the hole in the 
fence.” 


CHAPTER XI 


HOW THE PLAN WORKED 

According to agreement, Leslie waylaid Dick 
on the following morning as the latter was hurry- 
ing homeward. 

“How about that little arrangement of ours, 
Dick?” he demanded, as he locked arms with his 
chum and kept pace with the other’s long strides. 

“Guess it goes through all right,” Dick replied, 
smilingly; “if you mean our plan to lie low, and 
watch the meeting between Billy and his grand- 
father.” 

“It isn’t too late for it, I hope,” ventured Les- 
lie, anxiously. 

“Oh! no,” came the confident reply; “I saw 
Billy’s mother this morning, and she promised not 
to let him out this afternoon till I gave the high 
sign.” 

“And what was that to be?” continued the other. 

“When we get to the corner of the fence where 
you can see the windows of the old Brandon house. 
I’m to wave my handkerchief. She’s to be looking, 
or have Billy do the same, and after I get an an- 


91 


92 THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


swer to my signal we’ll just have time to creep up 
to where the old deacon is waiting to have his daily 
chat with the child.” 

“You certainly have it all cooked up as neat as 
anything, Dick,” declared Leslie, admiringly, for 
he considered that his chum was without a rival 
when it came down to arranging things. 

They hurried on until finally the fence corner 
was reached from which a good view of the Bran- 
don house could be obtained. 

“Now watch me,” Dick remarked, as he com- 
menced to wave his pocket handkerchief slowly to 
and fro. 

“There, I can see some one moving at that upper 
window!” exclaimed Leslie. 

“I reckon it must be Billy,” said Dick, still keep- 
ing up the signalling. 

“They see you, Dick, and now some one has 
commenced to answer. The scheme worked like 
magic. All we have to do is to go and get into 
the deacon’s grounds.” 

“I’ve got that part of it all fixed too,” asserted 
Dick. “Billy isn’t to start out for five minutes 
after they get my signal. By that time we ought to 
be creeping up pretty close to Mr.- Nocker.” 

“How do you know he’ll be waiting there?” 
whispered Leslie, as both of them started to climb 
the fence. 

“I don’t know it, but the chances are ten to one 


HOW THE PLAN WORKED 


93 


we’ll find him walking up and down as nervous as 
anything, and keeping his eyes fixed on the path 
Billy usually comes along.” 

Once in the Brandon grounds, it was easy 
enough for them to find the very spot where, on 
that never-to-be-forgotten Hallowe’en night, the 
prank-loving crowd had slipped through a gap in 
the dividing fence. 

“You see it’s never been mended,” whispered 
Dick exultantly. “Of course, the old deacon 
knows this break is here, but he wouldn’t allow it 
to be closed for a good deal, because that would 
stop Billy’s daily visits.” 

Creeping through the opening, they began to 
make a little detour. The object of this move was 
plain to Leslie, for he understood that if the stern 
old man chanced to be watching eagerly for the 
coming of his new little acquaintance, his eyes 
would be searching the path leading from the 
break in the fence. 

Dick had all this “laid out to a fraction,” as 
Leslie would have said; and in a short time they 
could discover a moving figure under the trees. 

“Told you so,” whispered Dick, under his 
breath, as he gave his companion a nudge in the 
ribs, and carefully pointed ahead. 

Just as Dick had figured it was old Deacon 
Nocker who was walking to and fro in his usual 
nervous fashion. Every now and then he would 


94 THE Y. M. C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


stop, shade his eyes with one hand, and gaze long 
and earnestly beyond. 

He was evidently wondering whether anything 
could have happened to the child, for, as a rule, 
Billy trotted over to visit him long before this time 
of the afternoon. And really the storekeeper must 
have left his place of business early in order to en- 
joy this, to him, novel treat. 

Led by Dick, who knew how to creep along after 
the manner of an Indian, Leslie presently found 
himself close enough to the impatient deacon to 
hear him muttering discontentedly to himself. It 
thrilled them both to catch the disjointed sentences, 
for by this they knew that already the chubby 
little Billy had managed to worm himself into a 
corner of the sour old man’s long closed heart. 

Another nudge from Dick’s elbow caused Les- 
lie to catch his breath, for he knew that it meant 
the child was coming. No danger of Mr. Nocker 
discovering the pair of eavesdroppers in the bushes 
close by, for all his attention was taken up with 
straining his eyes in the opposite quarter. 

The boys could see a sturdy little figure brush- 
ing through the bushes. Billy was hurrying to 
keep his appointment, for evidently he had come 
to rather enjoy meeting the elderly gentleman, 
who always had some little present for him. 

Mr. Nocker was heard to give utterance to an 
exclamation of exultation as he caught sight of the 



THE DEACON STOOPED DOWN AND ENCLOSED LITTLE BILLY 

IN HIS ARMS. 

The F. M. C. A. Boys of Cliffwood 


Page 95 






f 


HOW THE PLAN WORKED 


95 


lad. He even hurried forward a few paces in or- 
der to meet him. 

When the two who were in hiding saw the dea- 
con stoop down and actually enclose little Billy in 
his arms, straining him to his heart, they were 
thrilled. Nobody in all Cliffwood had ever before 
known the cold old deacon to exhibit the least bit 
of tenderness toward any child. 

“What kept you so long, Billy boy?” demanded 
the deacon, reproachfully. “Why, do you know 
I have been waiting here almost half an hour? I 
began to think my little playmate had been taken 
sick again.” 

“Mamma kept me in,” said the little fellow in 
his clear voice that easily reached the strained ears 
of the two in the bushes. “But I teased and teased 
and then when she saw it she just said she guessed 
she’d have to let me come out.” 

The deacon looked at him in a puzzled fashion ; 
but evidently he was so well satisfied to have Billy 
with him, even for a brief time, that he did not 
think it worth while to ask questions. 

Of course, the two listening boys knew what the 
child meant, since it was Dick’s waving handker- 
chief that the young widow had seen. 

“Mamma told me I could only stay five minutes 
over here,” continued Billy, who seemed to be an 
unusually bright little fellow, able to express his 
thoughts in a sensible manner. 


96 THE r. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


“Oh! naughty mamma, to cut your visit short 
like that,” complained the deacon. She must know 
I enjoy every minute of it so, and she has you the 
whole of the day and night. But come and sit 
down with me here while you do stay, Billy.” 

He uttered the name almost caressingly. Dick 
was silently chuckling over the astonishing success 
of the scheme he had originated. He realized that 
matters had by this time reached a stage that in- 
sured success sooner or later. 

Mr. Nocker held one of the boy’s diminutive 
hands in his, and led him to a bench which looked 
very new. Undoubtedly, it had been placed there 
recently by the special orders of the owner of the 
place, so that he and the child could sit and chat ^ 
during the brief visit Billy was allowed to pay him 
each day. 

“Some time, Billy,” he was saying, “I must meet 
your mother. She has been very kind to let you 
visit a lonely old man like me every day. I am 
sure she must be a very nice little lady, though I 
have only seen her at a distance.” 

Another fierce nudge from Dick’s elbow and di- 
rected in the region of Leslie’s side announced 
how pleased the other was on hearing this con- 
fession. 

“My mamma is an angel,” they heard Billy 
stoutly assert. “The nicest mamma in all the 
world. And I always tell her how good you are 


HOW, THE PLAN WORKED 97 

to me. She said some time she hoped to thank 
you herself, sir.” 

“And she shall, Billy, she shall,” declared the 
deacon, smiling grimly, and evidently enjoying a 
new sensation. 

Finally the clock in the church tower in town 
struck the hour. Billy immediately jumped from 
his seat on the bench. 

“Oh! my mamma made me promise to come 
back when the clock struck, so I must be going.” 

“I’ll walk as far as the fence with you then, 
Billy,” said Mr. Nocker, looking quite forlorn. 
“Try and get your mother’s consent to stay longer 
tomorrow, please.” 

“I will, sir,” replied the little fellow, promptly; 
“because I like to be over here with you.” 

At that the old man bent hastily down and drew 
Billy into his arms. The watching boys saw him 
kiss the little chap several times. 

“Here is a present for you, Billy,” said the 
deacon, “but don’t open the package until you are 
back with your good mother. Tell her that be- 
fore long I hope to call on her myself.” 

Together they walked toward the gap in the di- 
vision fence. Dick and Leslie changed their posi- 
tion, thinking to make a safe retreat presently. 
They stopped only long enough to see the stern 
deacon standing at the fence blowing kisses after 
little Billy. 


CHAPTER XII 


THE MAN WHO DID NOT KNOW BOYS 

“Shake hands on it, Dick,” said Leslie; 
“youVe got the old curmudgeon to swallow the 
bait all right, and he’s hooked as fast as anything. 
All you need to do now is to pull the line in and 
land him.” 

“Do you think so, Leslie?” mused the other. 
“Well, I’m glad for the sake of little Billy and his 
mother, for she has a mighty small amount of 
money to live on, and the deacon is a rich man, 
you know.” 

“What do you reckon he’s thinking about while 
he stands there with his arms on the fence, and his 
head bowed on them?” asked Leslie, as they were 
making their way silently toward the street, in- 
tending to clamber over the front fence at a point 
where they could not be seen. 

“I don’t know for sure,” replied the other, “but 
I should think it might be about his own boy, 
Amos. Mebbe he looked a little like Billy does 
now, when he was small. And how can we tell 


98 


THE MAN WHO DID NOT KNOW 99 


but what memory has got busy in that scheming 
old brain of the deacon’s?” 

“Well,” observed Leslie, as they reached the 
street safely, after vaulting the fence boy-style, 
“I could see him looking into the face of the young- 
ster now and then, and rubbing his own forehead 
as if he might be puzzled to know where he ever 
could have seen Billy before.” 

“That’s right,” assented Dick, quickly; “you re- 
member he asked Billy once if he had ever lived 
in Cliffwood before, and the boy said not that he 
knew of. Well, it seems to be working finely, and 
I guess after all little Mrs. Nocker won’t have to 
work to keep the wolf from the door.” 

“Not with the grip Billy has got on his old 
grandfather’s heart,” laughed Leslie. “I never 
would have believed any child could wind that 
cold-blooded storekeeper around his little finger. 
It’s as good as pie to me to see it.” 

They headed into town, talking as they went, 
and, of course, there were many matters to be dis- 
cussed between them, besides Dick’s latest scheme. 

“There’s Mr. Holwell,” remarked Dick, sud- 
denly; “and since he knows so much about my plan 
I think I’d like to tell him what we’ve just been 
watching.” 

“A good idea too, Dick,” assented the other. 

The minister met them with one of his custom- 
ary pleasant smiles. 


100 THE Y. M. C A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


“You both look as if something unusually fine 
had happened this afternoon,” he remarked. 
“Perhaps you wouldn’t object to telling me about 
the same.” 

“That’s just what we meant to do, sir,” de- 
clared Dick. “It’s about Deacon Nocker and lit- 
tle Billy, you see.” 

Mr. Holwell immediately showed the most in- 
tense interest. 

“Then that clever plan of yours must be work- 
ing out in a satisfactory manner, Dick, my lad,” 
he remarked, “if I can judge from the happy ex- 
pression on your face just now.” 

“Indeed, I reckon it’s going to be a bully suc- 
cess, sir I” ventured Leslie. 

“We’ve just been watching one of their meet- 
ings,” Dick continued, “and it’s plain to be seen, 
sir, that Billy has got a firm grip on Mr. Nocker’s 
heart. We saw the deacon kiss him lots of times, 
and squeeze him just as if he wanted to eat him. 
Oh, it’s bound to come out all right in the end.” 

“Good for you, Dick!” said the minister, en- 
thusiastically, taking the hand of the boy in his 
strong grip; “and I want to say that I consider 
you’ve played one of the neatest games that could 
be devised.” 

As the two chums walked onward, Dick’s face 
was beaming with happiness. There had been 
a time when he would have cared little for the 


THE MAN WHO DID NOT KNOW 101 


good opinion of Mr. Holwell, but somehow, of 
late a great change seemed to have come over the 
wayward boy’s nature. Many things that he had 
formerly delighted in, no longer held an attraction 
for him; and every day he was awakening to the 
fact that service for others could bring more real 
pleasure than selfish gratification ever did. 

“Here’s trouble with a big T!” burst out Les- 
lie before they had gone far. 

“You mean about Dan Fenwick, I suppose,” 
ventured Dick, glancing at an approaching figure. 
“Sure enough, he does look pretty sour, as if his 
dinner hadn’t agreed with him any too well.” 

Dan came along shaking his head, and frown- 
ing savagely. 

“What’s got you this time, Dan?” burst out Les- 
lie as they joined forces. “Lost that new knife 
you got on your last birthday? Or mebbe now 
Susie Banks has promised another fellow she’d 
go with him to that barn dance they’re getting up 
for Christmas Eve?” 

At that Dan shook his head and grinned, show- 
ing he^ had not yet reached such a depth of actual 
woe. 

“Huh! ’tisn’t quite so bad as all that, fellows,” 
he went on to explain. “But let me tell you some- 
thing has got to be done about that Mr. Loft. 
He’s gettin’ on my nerves, and that’s a fact.” 

Dick and Leslie exchanged glances at hearing 


102 THE Y, M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


this fresh complaint about the pedantic librarian 
who seemed to think boys ought to be fed on 
heavy stuff from the time they were able to read 
their primers. 

“Been knocking you again, has he, Dan?” de- 
manded Leslie, frowning. 

“Why, it’s getting so bad now,” said the other, 
angrily, “that a boy can’t ask for a single work of 
fiction but what Mr. Loft takes occasion to give 
him a long lecture on wasted opportunities. He 
says we ought to be cramming intelligence into our 
brains instead of fooling away our time with such 
trash as we ask for.” 

“He makes me tired,” asserted Leslie. “To his 
mind everything a boy does that isn’t meant to fill 
his poor brain with knowledge is wasted. If he 
had his way I bet you there wouldn’t be a real 
boy’s book in all the library; and some of them are 
standard works at that.” 

“My father and grandfather read Robinson 
Crusoe, Swiss Family Robinson, and a lot of other 
books that every boy with red blood in his veins 
dotes on,” asserted Dan. “But Mr. Loft told me 
they ought to be burnt, and that he meant to see 
if he could influence the town council to allow him 
to weed out all such pernicious juvenile literature.” 

“Then never a boy will be seen in our fine li- 
brary, you can be sure of that!” asserted Dick, 
pugnaciously. 


THE MAN WHO DID NOT KNOW 103 


“I’ve talked it over with several people besides 
my folks,” Leslie went on to tell his chums, “and 
they all think this way. Like Mr. Holwell, they 
admit that there are lots of books for boys pub- 
lished these days at a cheap price that are written 
just for the excitement in them. They condemn 
that class, but at the same time say there are many 
volumes, and some of ’em cheap at that, that while 
full of adventure, show a boy how to curb his 
faults, and climb up the ladder of fame.” 

“I could string off two dozen titles right now, 
every one a dandy book,” asserted Dan, pugna- 
ciously, “all on my shelf at home, and my mother 
has read every single one of the same. What she 
says is all right you can depend on isn’t going to 
do a fellow any harm, for she used to be a teacher 
in New York City, and knows boys from the 
ground up.” 

“There’s only one thing to be done about it,” 
asserted Dick. “That is to start a library of our 
own as we talked about some time ago.” 

“You mean inside the Y. M. C. A.?” asked 
Dan, eagerly. 

“Yes, after we consult again with Mr. Holwell 
about it,” came the answer, showing that Dick 
had been thinking over the idea since the time it 
was first mentioned. 

“Each member of the club might contribute 
what books he cared to spare,” Leslie continued. 


104 THE F. M. C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


“IVe got a whole pile Fd like to offer for my 
share. Mr. Holwell could be the judge of what 
was fit for us to have in our library. He knows 
boys ten times better than that high-brow Mr. 
Loft.” 

All of them displayed signs of great enthusiasm 
over the idea. The boys of Cliffwood had long 
suffered at the hands of the town librarian, who, 
though doubtless a worthy as well as a learned 
man, had never learned to peep into the heart of 
a genuine boy, and know how to handle him so as 
to cultivate the best there was in him. 

“It’ll sure be a big feather in our cap if we do 
manage to have a library of our own, every book 
carefully selected, and just the kind we love to 
read as well,” Dan hastened to say, the sour look 
now gone entirely from his face. 

“And for my part,” Leslie went on to say, “I’m 
going to get Uncle Henry interested in the scheme. 
I really believe he’ll put up the money to buy a lot 
of books of the right sort — that are of^an uplifting 
character, besides being full of stirring adven- 
ture.” 

“I’m mighty glad now Mr. Loft lectured me 
as he did,” said Dan; “because you see it’s 
brought matters to a head right away. Wheel 
but won’t he lift his hands in horror when he hears 
about it. I can just see the look on his face.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


MET ON THE HIGHWAY 

Upon reaching home that afternoon Dick found 
that his mother had an errand she wanted him 
to do. This was to take his old wheel and ride 
out a mile or so into the country, to get some fresh 
eggs that had been promised by the wife of a far- 
mer. 

“And be very careful, Dick,” she cautioned 
him as he was ready for the start. “Don’t try any 
fast riding while you are carrying my precious 
eggs, for once they are scrambled nothing can 
undo the damage.” 

The boy laughed merrily at the picture she 
drew. 

“I promise you I’ll go carefully enough. 
Mother,” he told her. “Luckily enough I’ve just 
fixed the old tire of my wheel so I think it’ll hold 
out. If it breaks loose again why I’ll hoof it home 
rather than take any chances.” 

“Tell Mrs. Brown to pack the eggs in saw- 
dust as she did the last ones, and the chances of 
their breaking will be small,” were the last words 


105 


106 THE F. M, C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


Mrs. Horner called out after him as he jumped 
into his saddle and rode away. 

Dick was very proud of his little mother, and 
of late she had been made happy in noticing what 
a great change had come over her boy. He had 
always been considerate of her comfort, but at the 
same time frequently caused her gentle heart to 
bleed through the tricks he so dearly loved to play. 
But all that seemed to have undergone a great 
change since he had joined the Boys’ Department 
of the Y. M. C. A. 

Dick managed to reach the Brown farm with- 
out a puncture, though he more than half expected 
one at any moment. The eggs were duly packed 
in his basket, and the farmer’s wife saw to it that 
the messenger had a slice of gingerbread as well 
as a glass of cold milk while he sat a few minutes 
and watched her place the fragile eggs in the saw- 
dust. / 

“I guess I’ll take the other road home,” Dick 
told himself, as he trundled his rather dilapidated 
wheel out through the gateway on to the road. 

It was but an idle fancy, because every road 
for many miles around Cliffwood was as familiar 
to Dick as the commons in the center of the town. 
At the time he could not guess that even this little 
change of plan was fated to be fraught with conse- 
quences that were bound to have a decided in- 
fluence on his life; yet such proved to be the case. 


MET ON THE HIGHWAY 


107 


Hardly had the boy gone three hundred feet 
from the gate of the Brown farm when he had 
the expected puncture. The tires on his wheel had 
been mended so often that they could never be de- 
pended on ; and Dick found it hard work earning 
enough money to buy himself a new pair at the 
sporting goods store in town. 

“Just my luck to have it hit the rear wheel,” he 
remarked, as he jumped down, not forgetting to 
be exceedingly careful how he handled that pre- 
cious basket of new-laid eggs. 

As he could not very well ride on the rim the 
rest of the way home there was only one thing 
left to do, which was to trudge along on foot. Dick 
was rather a philosophical boy, and could accept a 
bad turn without showing very much chagrin. So 
whistling some school air he walked sturdily on- 
ward. 

Less than ten minutes later, while near the out- 
skirts of the town, he came upon a tramp, as he 
believed, sitting under a tree. At least the man 
seemed poorly dressed, and his beard was gray, 
and Dick imagined he looked wan and hungry, as 
if he might have been recently sick. 

The man stopped Dick as he was passing, after 
nodding cheerfully. Perhaps something in the 
frank look of the boy’s face attracted him. 

“This town is Cliffwood, isn’t it, lad?” he 
asked; and somehow the tone of his voice pleased 


108 THE F. M, C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


Dick, and he turned and came back to where the 
old man was seated. 

“Yes, that’s Cliffwood,” he replied. “Is there 
any one you want to find in the town?” 

The man was staring very hard at him all the 
while. 

“Might I ask your name, boy?” he inquired, not 
insolently, Dick thought, but as if for some rea- 
son he really wanted to know. 

“I’m Dick Horner,” the boy frankly told him. 
“I live with my grandfather and my mother on the 
outskirts of Clifliwood. Grandfather Horner is 
an army veteran, you see, and everybody around 
here knows him, I guess.” 

He wondered why the tramp should start and 
look at him more keenly than ever, at the same 
time mumble something to himself. 

“Now, I’m of the opinion,” the old man went on 
to say, presently, “that the mother of such a fine 
lad as you must have a gentle heart.” 

Dick fell into the trap headlong. If any one 
ever wished to win his good opinion there was no 
shorter road to success than through praise of his 
little mother. 

“She’s the best mother in the whole country, and 
that’s right!” he declared in his boyish way. 

“Do you think, lad, she would give me a bite 
to eat if I walked along with you?” continued the 
trampish looking stranger, eagerly. 


MET ON THE HIGHWAY 


109 


Dick drew a long breath. It suddenly dawned 
on him that perhaps the other had been working 
matters to suit some hidden purpose of his own. 
Still, Dick stuck to his guns ; he had never known 
his gentle mother to turn a poor tramp away from 
her door if she really believed him to be hungry, 
and ready to do some slight service in return for 
being fed. 

“All right!” Dick declared, on the spur of the 
moment. “You just come along with me, and I 
guess my mother will be able to give you a sand- 
wich anyhow. I hope you can walk, though at that 
it’s only a little way off.” 

“I’ve been pretty sick lately,” said the other, 
shaking his head. “Fact is one time I thought I 
was going to cash my checks in, and it spurred me 
to doing something I’d long been figuring on. 
Thank you, my boy, for your kindness to a total 
stranger. The bread cast upon the waters may 
return again before many days.” 

Now Leslie, being of a more suspicious nature 
than his chum, Dick, might have suspected that the 
stranger was simply taking advantage of the boy’s 
good nature to impose on him. Dick, as he walked 
along, the other hobbling painfully at his side, 
even offered to relieve the tramp of his shabby lit- 
tle bundle. 

“You see, I can lay it on the saddle of my wheel, 
and alongside the basket of eggs I’ve been getting 


110 THE Y. M, C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


at a farm house/’ he explained; and the man 
looked keenly at him, though Dick did not suspect 
this fact, wagging his beard as though somehow 
this thoughtful consideration for his age and in- 
firmities touched his heart. 

They soon came to the little Horner home. It 
was a neat cottage close to the bank of the Sweet- 
briar River. Indeed, when the wind set from up- 
stream one could plainly hear the murmur of the 
fretful waters at the place where they formed the 
rough rapids that gave the several mills their 
waterpower. 

Grandpop Horner was sitting in the light of the 
dying sun, because the day had been quite mild 
for the late season, and he loved the sunshine very 
much. As Dick and the trampish looking old fel- 
low came through the gate, Mrs. Horner issued 
from the doorway of the cottage to urge upon the 
old veteran the necessity for coming in before the 
chill of approaching evening affected his rheumatic 
limb. 

Dick saw the look of wonder on both their faces 
as he led his strange companion up the walk to the 
front porch. 

“Mother,” he started to explain, now half 
afraid that possibly he had done the wrong thing 
in bringing a total stranger home with him, and 
at that one who rather looked as though he might 
be sick and penniless, “this is a poor man I met 


MET ON THE HIGHWAY 


111 


on the road. He is hungry, and has been sick. 
I told him I believed you would not refuse him a 
bite to eat; and that perhaps he could sleep in the 
hay in our little barn.” 

The mother looked a little worried. Then she 
smiled as though on second thought she could not 
find it in her heart to refuse to help any one in 
distress, even though food was never too plenti- 
ful at the Horner home. 

“Why, certainly, my boy. We can find some- 
thing to satisfy his appetite; and if you think best 
he shall pass the night in our barn.” 

The stranger started to speak as though trying 
to express his gratitude. Something, however, 
stopped him; perhaps he choked, for he coughed 
severely several times, so that Mrs. Horner be- 
came visibly anxious. 

“You have indeed been sick, my poor man,” 
she hastened to say. “Come directly into the house 
and get warm. What you need is a cup of hot 
coffee, and something to eat. Dick, you did the 
right thing to bring him home with you.” 

Even Grandfather Horner, who had been shak- 
ing his head while this was going on, seemed to 
be ready to echo the kind words of Dick’s mother. 

“Only one who has been a soldier for four long 
years, and endured the pangs of hunger many 
times, knows what it is to want,” he declared ear- 
nestly. “When I escaped from Libby Prison I 


112 THE r. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


spent six weeks in the swamps, being hunted like 
a dog; and I had to live on nuts and roots and ber- 
ries most of the time, except when some slave man- 
aged to give me a sheaf of cornbread. Nobody 
ever passes the Horner home hungry as long as 
we have a bit to spare.” 

The stranger was visibly shaken with emotion. 
He started toward Mrs. Horner and held out 
both his trembling hands. 

“Polly, don’t you know me?” he demanded, at 
which remark Dick’s mother bent forward, stared 
closely into his seamed face, and then almost 
shrieked: 

“Oh I it’s my older brother Silas, whom we be- 
lieved died years ago in Alaska !” 


CHAPTER XIV 


LESLIE ON GUARD 

Leslie Capes, coming around the corner of the 
house just then, gaped in sheer amazement at the 
remarkable picture before him. And when he saw 
Dick’s sweet little mother, after giving vent to 
those words, embrace the shabby looking stranger 
as though she at least had no doubt concerning his 
identity, Leslie shook his head in his suspicious 
way. 

“It may be all right,” he muttered to himself, 
“but that old rascal looks like an impostor to me. 
How can Mrs. Horner tell whether it’s her brother 
or not, when she hasn’t seen him for so many 
years?” 

He determined then and there to constitute him- 
self a vigilance committee of one to watch the 
stranger closely. If he detected anything that 
looked suspicious it would of course be his duty to 
tell his chum, and so put the Horners on their 
guard. 

Meanwhile, the others were so excited that none 
of them even noticed the presence of Leslie Capes, 


113 


114 THE F. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 

so that he had plenty of chances to listen and ob- 
serve. 

“For years,” the wanderer was saying, with a 
touch of regret in his voice, “IVe been promising 
myself to look up my only sister if I could strike 
it rich. Fortune plays queer pranks with men up 
there in Alaska. Several times I believed I was 
on the verge of a glorious fortune, only to have the 
bubble burst.” 

He uttered the last words with a half groan as 
though nearly overpowered. 

“Never mind, Silas,” said Mrs. Horner, as 
cheerily as she could, “your intentions were good 
at least. It was not your fault if fortune failed to 
knock at your door. But how did you find us out?” 

The shabby stranger swallowed hard as though 
nearly overcome with emotion; but the watchful 
Leslie believed this was mostly assumed. He was 
more than ever convinced that the so-called Silas 
would bear close scrutiny. 

“When I finally fell sick,” continued the weary 
wanderer, “somehow my thoughts seemed to roam 
back to the old life more than ever. Finally, I 
could stand it no longer, and determined to start 
out in hopes of finding my little sister Polly. I 
had enough to take me to the States, and East. By 
following up certain clues, I learned that you were 
living in this section, and I came here to see you 
oiice more before I cashed in.” 


LESLIE ON GUARD 


115 


“But you have been walking far today, Silas, 
and )^ou look half dead with fatigue,” Dick’s gen- 
tle mother went on to say. “Indeed, you must 
rest here for a few days until you can plan for 
your future. Oh! I wish we were better off, so 
that I could offer you a home for the rest of your 
life!” 

“That would be an imposition, Polly, which I 
could not hear of,” said the other, though Leslie 
noticed that when he turned his head aside, he 
smiled as though secretly pleased. “If I can rest 
a day or two, I intend to go on to New York City, 
where an old partner of mine lives.” 

“But would he do anything for you, Silas?” 
asked Mrs. Horner, solicitously. 

“I saved his life once in the gold mines up there 
in the frozen North,” explained Silas, quickly. 
“And as he has made his pile, I fancy Joe Shepard 
wouldn’t begrudge me the little money needed to 
keep my soul and body together for the short time 
I have to live.” 

Now Leslie had been noticing that in spite of the 
cough which Silas gave vent to at times, and his 
bent attitude, he had rather a sturdy figure. 

“Sure that old fellow is putting it on pretty thick 
for some reason or other,” the boy kept telling 
himself. “I even believe that cough of his is made 
up, because he lets it go every once in a while, as if 
he suddenly remembers a plan he has figured out. 


116 THE Y. M. C, A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


Huh I he may pull the wool over the eyes of these 
simple Horners, but Fve got my eye on him, you 
bet. ril lay low and watch the sly old fox.” 

Grandpop Horner again entered into the con- 
versation at this point. He pounded his cane vig- 
orously on the floor to emphasize his remarks, in 
a way he had. 

“Don’t think of it, my boy,” he said, heartily. 
“No brother of my daughter-in-law, Polly Horner, 
is going to beg his way while weVe got a crust in 
the larder. You’ll hang your hat on a peg in this 
house, and be welcome to what little we’ve got.” 

“Oh I that’s too much, sir, entirely too much,” 
remonstrated the other, shaken by some emotion. 
“But I am tempted to stay with you a day or two 
until I get a little strength back. Then I can shape 
my plans, and will perhaps have heard from my 
old partner in the city. He may send me the 
money to come to him.” 

“Polly, put the kettle on !” sang Grandpop Hor- 
ner, in his cheery way, “and we will have our tea. 
The fare is plain, Silas, but so far we have not 
known real want, though there are many things we 
have to do without, and my pension doesn’t go as 
far as I would like.” 

The newcomer sat there looking quite happy, 
Leslie Capes thought as he watched his chum Dick 
bustling around, bringing in several armfuls of 
wood, and assisting h’s mother in various ways. 


LESLIE ON GUARD 


117 ^ 

Now ordinarily, Leslie, being a most accommo- 
dating fellow, would have hastened to lend Dick 
a helping hand. On this special occasion he did 
nothing of the sort, and for a very good reason. 

“Fve just got to play detective,” he told him- 
self in explanation for his peculiar conduct, “and 
keep an eye on that smart stranger. I don’t be- 
lieve more than half he says. He knows something 
about Silas Langhorne, who was mebbe a pal of 
his up in Alaska, and is bent on imposing on these 
simple people. But p’raps he’ll run up against a 
snag when he finds he’s got Leslie Capes to con- 
tend with.” 

Old Grandpop Horner entertained the wan- 
derer while these preparations for supper were 
under way. Of course, most of his talk ran along 
the lines of his extraordinary adventures in the 
long-ago, when he fought through the Civil War. 
Indeed, no matter what line the conversation 
opened with, it was sure to drift to those times that 
had been stamped so indelibly on the old veteran’s 
mind. 

Dick presently found that his mother needed 
him no longer and so joined his chum, who was 
playing with little Sue, some seven years of age, a 
winsome girl with chestnut curls, and a slight lisp 
that made her more attractive than otherwise 
might have been the case. 

Even Grandpop had his duties to perform, and 


118 THE Y. M, C, A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


was set to work grinding the coffee, a favorite task 
he delighted in. Silas had arisen from his chair, 
and was wandering about the cozy room looking 
at the pictures on the walls, some of them family 
portraits. 

“Well, I haven’t had much time to say how-d’ye- 
do, Leslie,” remarked Dick, as he dropped down 
beside the other. “You see with this queer thing 
happening it’s excited us a heap. Did you run over 
to tell me anything special?” 

“Oh!” explained the other, “I was just passing 
and thought I’d ask you for that list of books you 
promised to give me, some that you won in that 
puzzle contest a year ago. I’m getting things 
together, you know, so Mr. Holwell can start look- 
ing the books over, and deciding which ones he 
thinks suitable for our new library.” 

“I’m glad you came when you did,” chuckled 
Dick; “because it was just in time to see the re- 
union. I guess this is about the queerest thing that 
ever happened to us.” 

“How did you happen to meet — er, your Uncle 
Silas?” queried Leslie. 

“Oh I he was sitting by the side of the road rest- 
ing when I came by,” the other went on to say. 
“My shabby old wheel had broken down, and I 
was trundling it along. Only for that I might have 
whirled past and never noticed him.” 

“Did he stop you and ask who you were?” pur- 


LESLIE ON GUARD 


119 


sued Leslie, curiously, for the newcomer was just 
then at the other side of the room talking with 
little Susie. 

“Well, we somehow seemed to be attracted 
toward each other,’’ explained Dick. “I felt sorry 
for a man who looked so poor and needy, and 
when we got to talking he did ask me my name I 
believe.” 

“Huh!” grunted Leslie, “chances are you in- 
vited him to walk along with you and get some- 
thing to eat at your folks’ house. I say that be- 
cause it’d be just like you. The poorer the Horn- 
ers are the more they want to do things for those 
they think worse off than themselves.” 

Dick did not take any offense at what his chum 
said. Indeed, he even laughed a little as though 
he believed it to be a compliment. 

“It must be in the blood then,” he told Leslie, 
“because none of us can help it. My mother is al- 
ways hoping that some day she may fall into a sum 
of money, because then she could help so many 
other poor people. What, not going already, Les- 
lie?” 

“I must,” replied the other who had arisen. 
Give me the list of books you have, Dick. You 
might step outside with me,” he added in a whis- 
per, “because I’d like to say a few words in your 
ear that I don’t dare get off here.” 

Dick knew his chum so well that he thought 


120 THE Y. M. C, A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


nothing of this rather strange request. He went 
into his own small den and quickly came back bear- 
ing a slip of paper. 

“There you are/’ he told the other, “and I 
don’t believe Mr. Holwell can put a black cross 
against any one on the list, because they’re all 
splendid, thrilling, uplifting stories, and bound to 
do any fellow heaps of good reading them.” 

He led the way to the outer air. The night was 
coming on though it was not fully dark. There 
was a suspicion of colder weather in the air, al- 
though as yet no one could call it chilly. 

“Now what do you want to say to me that you 
didn’t care to tell indoors, Leslie?” 

“Only this, Dick,” replied the other; “don’t be- 
lieve all that old chap says. He may be what he 
claims, but I’ve got my doubts about it.” 

“Then you must have a good reason for think- 
ing that way?” urged Dick, hardly pleased at hear- 
ing his chum speak in this strain. 

“I’m going on general principles to begin with,” 
continued Leslie, unabashed, “for while I’m not 
from Missouri I have to be shown before I be- 
lieve. Besides, according to my humble opinion, 
the story he tells is decidedly fishy.” 

“Oh! do you think so?” asked Dick, chuckling, 
for it usually amused him to find his friend acting 
in this way. In times past he had even dubbed 
Leslie the Great Objector. “All of us 


LESLIE ON GUARD 


121 


seem to believe what he says, and mother surely 
ought to recognize her own long-lost brother.” 

‘‘It would seem so,” admitted Leslie, slowly. 
“But to tell you the truth, I don’t altogether like 
his ways. He strikes me as a chap who is playing 
some sort of clever game.” 

“That’s a pretty serious accusation to make, old 
fellow,” argued Dick. “Now, if the Horners were 
well-to-do, there might be some reason for a scamp 
to scheme to hoodwink us. But great governor! 
what could any one expect to get here?” 

“I don’t know,” admitted Leslie, who, however, 
was very tenacious in his ways, and could not be 
easily induced to desert his guns. “But something 
tells me he is up to some dark scheme.” 

“Oh I” laughed Dick, “perhaps now he’s learned 
in a mysterious way that the Horners have fallen 
heir to some great big fortune, though they don’t 
know it yet themselves. And as you say, he may 
be intending to hang around so as to steal val- 
uable papers that will enable him to claim the 
same. That must be what you’ve got in mind, 
Leslie — a regular movies stunt.” 

“Now you’re making fun of me, Dick,” com- 
plained the other. “But I sat there and pretended 
to play with Susie, while I kept one eye on your 
so-called Uncle Silas. And Dick, I could see him 
chuckling to himself every little while as if some- 
thing tickled him immensely.” 


122 THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


“Well, what of that?” urged Dick, stoutly. 
“He’s had hard luck all his life, and I can under- 
stand how pleased he must be to come on folks 
who belong to him. A rover they say, when he 
gets real old and sickly, always thinks of the past. 
Now, for my part, I seem to take to Uncle Silas 
quite well. We may find a way to keep him with 
us right along.” 

“Listen,” said Leslie, as he was about to hurry 
off, “I saw him take up one of the tea spoons and 
look at it. Then he nodded his head as if he had 
found it real silver you know, one of those few 
heirlooms your poor mother thinks so much of.” 

“Well,” said Dick, humorously, “if anybody 
ever ran across anything worth taking in the Hor- 
ner home. I’d make him divide with me. So-long, 
Leslie, and thank you for the warning. But we 
Horners are always willing to take a chance, you 
know.” 


CHAPTER XV 


COUNTER CURRENTS IN THE 

How are you coming on with your farce, 
Dick?” asked Mr. Holwell, the next evening, as 
he stepped in at the Y. M. C. A. building to see 
how the boys were coming on, and also to fulfill 
several errands. 

“Oh! I seem to be forging right ahead, sir,” 
laughed Dick, “though I find it a pretty hard prop- 
osition to get up the songs and choruses. I don’t 
believe I could have tackled the job only for your 
permission to get such assistance in the song part 
that we could from any of our young companions.” 

“Yes, you told me before that one of the girls 
had been helping you there,” remarked the min- 
ister, who was showing a very deep interest in all 
of the boys belonging to the new department of 
the association. “I have given the same permis- 
sion to all who intend to compete. But it is ex- 
pressly understood that the words of the songs 
and choruses, as well as everything save the musi- 
cal score, must be entirely original with the ones 


123 


124 THE F. M. C, A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


who submit their farces to the committee, or else 
they will be thrown out.’* 

“Sometimes I am almost tempted to tear mine 
up,” admitted Dick, frankly; “because it reads silly 
to me; but my folks at home seem to like it, and 
my chum Leslie says it is fine. But then, I guess 
he only tells me that because he is my chum.” 

“Don’t think of tearing it up, my boy,” urged 
the minister, earnestly. “Many a famous man has 
had his hours of doubt, and come near abandoning 
the career he had marked out for himself. You 
are no judge of your own productions. Older 
heads must decide on the merits of the composi- 
tions. Promise me that no matter what you think 
you will finish the farce and hand it in.” 

“Oh ! I can promise you that, sir,” replied Dick, 
flushing with pleasure, since he felt that Mr. Hol- 
well had a certain amount of confidence in him. 

Shortly afterward the minister left the building, 
having accomplished what errands he had in view 
when entering. It was the one evening in the week 
when the juniors were allowed the freedom of the 
gymnasium, and a dozen fellows had already don- 
ned their “gym” garments, so that they could have 
perfect freedom of movement when exercising in 
their favorite ways. 

Nat and Dit were on hand, for they never 
missed an opportunity to be present on “gym” 
night. ' Indeed, Dick strongly suspected it was this 


IN THE “GFM’ 


125 


very thing that had tempted Nat and his cronies to 
swallow their pride, and send that apology to Mr. 
Holwell. 

Being quite an athlete, Nat always took a lead- 
ing part in the varied exercises of the gymnasium. 
He could do many feats that caused some of the 
other less muscular and agile boys to envy him 
very much. 

Mr. Holwell, who read boys so well, understood 
that it was only a slender hold the association had 
on such a wild fellow as Nat. He hoped, how- 
ever, that by degrees the influences of the new life 
might serve to tone the other down, and cause 
him to change his ways. 

After some of the boys had tired themselver out 
in their exercises with the parallel bars, the swing- 
ing hoops, the lifting weights, and many other de- 
vices calculated to make them stronger in every 
way, they clustered around Nat, who was holding 
forth on the subject of his farce. 

“Wait till you hear it,’’ he was telling them in 
his exultant and superior way. “Chances are you’ll 
double up like a hinge with every page that’s read. 
Am I right, Dit?” and as he said this last he turned 
on his “shadow,” Dit Hennesy, who, as always, 
was hovering close by Nat. 

“Say, it’s sure a screamer,” asserted the other, 
vigorously. “Talk to me about funny business, 
Nat’s got every minstrel show beat to a frazzle. 


126 THE Y. M. C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


He read some of the stuff to me last night, and I’m 
giving you the straight thing when I tell you my 
mother says she heard me laughing in my sleep 
ever so many times.” 

Nat grinned happily as he looked around. Then 
his eye fell on Dick, who he very well knew was 
also writing a farce so as to enter the competition 
for the golden prize. 

“I reckon that makes you feel some sore, eh, 
Dick?” he sneered, as though delighted at the op- 
portunity to pay back some of the long score he 
thought he owed the other. “Course you’re doing 
your level best; but shucks! you’re only wasting 
your time let me tell you. There never was, and 
there never will be as funny a farce as I’m goin’ to 
spring on the committee. Huh! even makes me 
laugh myself when I get off a rattlin’ good joke, 
and hurry to write it down before I forget it.” 

To tell the truth, Dick did feel as though he 
hardly had the ghost of a chance in the competi- 
tion, after hearing all this boasting. Not for 
worlds, however, would he let that fellow see him 
look downcast. So he laughed good-naturedly as 
he went on to say in reply : 

“Oh ! well. I’m doing my level best, and that’s 
all any fellow can do. If the committee turns 
down my effort, all right. I’ll take my medicine 
without whimpering. I believe the best original 
farce ought to win, and that’s all there is to it.” 


IN THE ^^GYM 


127 


Nat looked keenly at him as though he won- 
dered whether Dick could have any hidden mean- 
ing back of his words. 

“Well, you see,” he continued, “Fm one of the 
kind of fellows always on the lookout for a chance 
to get off a crackin’ good joke on people. That 
helps me a heap in doin’ my writin’. Right now 
Fve been thinking up a little scheme to give old 
Limpy Peters, the shoemaker, the scare of his 
life.” 

“How’s that, Nat?” asked Dit Hennesy, as he 
invariably did when the other showed signs of 
having conjured up some scheme that promised 
to give them the selfish enjoyment felt by the boy 
who was stoning the frogs. 

“Fll tell you,” chuckled Nat, who seemed to be 
feeling particularly jolly on this occasion. “You 
know Limpy Peters lost his wife some years ago. 
He always goes to the graveyard on nights when 
there’s a full moon, and sits there a long time like 
a silly old fool. Well, Fm thinking what fun it’d 
be to hide near that place and start to groaning 
when he comes. Say, just try to picture that crip- 
ple makin’ tracks for the gate, will you? It’d be 
enough to make a mummy grin to see him tumblin’ 
all over himself.” 

Dit, of course, laughed as though he thought it 
a good idea. Several other boys being thoughtless, 
also chuckled, as they mentally pictured the poor 


128 THE F. M, C, A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


cobbler stumbling and falling in his fright and 
mad desire to escape. 

Others, however, frowned on the foolish 
scheme, and could be heard muttering the word 
“shame.’’ Nat stiffened up, and his cheeks flamed 
vdth anger. He looked at Dick, as though believ- 
ing that he had been loudest in his condemnation. 

“Seems you don’t like my little joke any too 
well, hey, Dick Horner?” he demanded, with a 
scowl. “Well, mebbe you can originate a better 
one yourself.” 

“I don’t understand what it’s got to do with 
getting up a farce, and I’d like you to explain that 
part to me,” Dick told him, calmly. 

“Oh!” exclaimed the other, with a scornful 
laugh, “that shows that you don’t appreciate the 
glorious possibilities a situation like that offers a 
real author of farces. I’m deep in it right now, 
and the conversation that is carried on between 
the poor scared chap in the graveyard and the sup- 
posed ghost would make you split your sides laugh- 
ing, just to hear it.” 

“Why,” spoke up the dutiful Dit, “I wanted him 
to read it to me, but he just wouldn’t. He said it’d 
make me so weak with laughin’ I never could walk 
home. Say, if it’s any better than what I did hear 
it sure must be a corker.” 

“But why frighten poor Limpy Peters when 
you’re getting on so well as it is?” demanded Dick. 


IN THE ‘^GYM’ 


129 


“Huh! shows your ignorance when you say 
that,” snorted Nat. “When a dramatist gets up 
a show he always wants to try it on the dog first, 
before it’s played in a big city. So I want to get 
what they call inspiration by seeing just how scared 
Limpy Peters will be when I groan, and carry 
on. 

“Shame on you, Natl” said Leslie Capes, in- 
dignantly. 

“Yes, and a whole lot of us echo that senti- 
ment,” Dick went on to say. “Poor old Limpy 
Peters has suffered terribly in his life. Nearly 
every boy in Clififwood thinks a heap of the old 
man, and for one I won’t stand by and hear of his 
being pestered, as you say, just to give you ‘in- 
spiration.’ ” 

“Huh! you talk pretty big, Dick Horner,” 
snapped Nat, with one of his lofty looks. “What’d 
you do about it if I said I’d carry on as I pleased?” 

Dick faced him with flashing eyes. Somehow 
he was fully aroused by now, and meant to give 
the other a piece of his mind. 

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do for one thing!” he ex- 
claimed, “and unless I miss my guess, there are a 
lot of other fellows here who feel the same way. 
I’ll tell Mr. Holwell about your scheme, and he’ll 
see to it that old Peters is warned. Then if you 
try what you threaten you may get in a peck of 
trouble.” 


130 THE F. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


“That’s my way of thinking, too !” asserted Les- 
lie, instantly ranging alongside of his chum. “We 
listened to you on Hallowe’en, and came near get- 
ting arrested for entering Mr. Nocker’s house to 
give him a scare.” 

“Better forget about this idea, Nat,” warned 
Peg Fosdick. “For one I’d never stand to hear 
of poor old Peters being scared half to death. I 
know what it is to limp myself, and can feel for 
the lame cobbler.” 

“Count me in as being opposed to that sort of 
cruel joke !” declared Andy Hale. 

“Ditto here I” sang out Clint Babbett. “Time’s 
gone by when I could get any real fun out of giving 
pain to other people.” 

“Plenty of other ways to find amusement, so 
far as I’m concerned, and so put me down as being 
with you, Dick, if you feel that you’ve got to give 
Nat away to Mr. Holwell,” observed Elmer 
Jones, positively. 

Nat glared around him. To tell the truth every 
one seemed against him save his crony Dit Hen- 
nesy. 

“Oh! well,” he laughed harshly; “seein’ that 
you’re so timid a bunch. I’ll call the joke off. 
Reckon I can finish my little imaginary conversa- 
tion between the ghost and the cobbler without 
tryin’ it on the dog. And you needn’t say a word 
to Mr. Holwell about it, Dick; unless you’re itchin’ 


IN THE “GFM” 131 

to get me put out of the game so you could have 
a walk-over.” 

Dick felt the sneer, and turned red, but held his 
ground. 

“ril promise not to say a word to Mr. Hol- 
well,” he told Nat. “But I m,ean to let Limpy 
know some boys are thinking of playing a practical 
joke on him one of these nights, so he can carry 
a pistol along with him when he goes to sit by the 
grave of his wife. That’s all I’ve got to say about 
it.” 

“Oh! forget it,” sneered Nat. “I don’t take 
any chances with a shooting-iron. Limpy needn’t 
bother, for I won’t molest him.” 

The look he gave Dick as he turned away was 
an ugly one. 

“Better watch out more than ever for Nat, 
Dick,” cautioned Leslie, as the two of them walked 
home together that evening. “He’s got it in for 
you as sure as anything.” 

“Oh ! I’m not bothering my head about his ever 
laying a hand on me,” declared the other boy, in- 
differently. “I only wish I could be as sure that his 
farce wouldn’t make my effort look silly. From 
what they say, Nat must be a rattling good hand at 
writing that sort of thing. Of course. I’ll keep 
on trying my best, but I’m afraid there isn’t much 
chance of my winning those twenty-five gold dol- 
lars.” 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE NIGHT ALARM 

It was a hard thing for Leslie to keep away 
from the Horner home these days. He had much 
in common with Dick to talk over, what with the 
progress of the black-face farce; the wonderful 
scheme Dick was carrying out looking to the bring- 
ing together of old Deacon Nocker and his son’s 
little family; and now, last of all, the mystery 
hanging over the returned Silas Langhorne. 

Leslie was particularly interested in the weary 
wanderer who had spent the better part of his life 
in the endeavor to coax fortune to pour her fa- 
vors into his lap, only to meet with final defeat. 

“Even if he is Dick’s real uncle, which I doubt 
a whole lot,” he often told himself, “think of the 
nerve of him coming here to hang on to those poor 
people like a barnacle does to a ship’s keel. Why, 
with another mouth to feed, they’ll go hungry 
more’n a few times, if the winter’s as hard as they 
say it’s going to be. I tell you it doesn’t look right 
to me; and I’ve just got to expose that old fraud.” 

So Leslie, in pursuance of his determination, was 


132 


THR NIGHT ALARM 


138 


over with Dick on the night that followed the en- 
counter at the gymnasium. 

Dick was induced to read a little more of his 
farce while the two of them sat in his den, and Les- 
lie again laughed heartily over the humorous way 
the writer expressed himself, as well as at the jokes 
he worked in between the jolly songs and choruses. 

“Don’t you dare get cold feet about this thing, 
Dick,” he told his chum sternly, when the other 
absolutely refused to read any more that night, as 
supper was nearly ready, and Leslie had agreed 
to eat with them. “I tell you it’s a peach, and Nat, 
for all his boasting, isn’t going to have a show-in.” 

Of course, Dick liked to hear that sort of thing, 
for he really needed all sorts of encouragement to 
bolster up his drooping spirits. That golden prize 
hung temptingly before his eyes, but he feared he 
was doomed never to clutch it ; although already he 
had figured out how many things besides a suit of 
new clothes it would afford him that winter. 

The boys went in to supper when the summons 
came. Silas was still in evidence. He looked con- 
siderably better, now that he had washed up, and 
brushed the dust from his shabby clothes, which 
were pretty nearly all his possessions, for he had 
only been carrying a little bundle done up in a gun- 
ny-sack when Dick first met him. 

“I ought to be goin’ on my way by this time,” 
Silas was remarking, as they sat at the table and 


134> THE F. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


partook of the humble fare, which, however, was 
plentiful enough for that occasion; “though I must 
say I’m terribly disappointed at not bearin’ from 
my old side partner, Joe Shepard, down in New 
York City, in answer to the letter I sent him.” 

Mrs. Horner shook her head at hearing that. 

“Stay a little longer with us, Silas,” she urged; 
“until you are stronger at any rate. You don’t 
eat much, and I’m sure, as my only brother, you 
are welcome to share in what we have. We put 
our trust in Providence, and so far we have never 
been forgotten. Something will turn up to help 
us, sooner or later.” 

This showed Leslie Capes what a splendid lit- 
tle woman Dick’s mother was, and deep down in 
his heart he knew she was right; but all the same 
he could not get over his firm distrust of the wan- 
derer. 

“As sure as anything,” he told himself as he 
continued to eat, “that was something mighty like 
a grin I saw workin’ on the old fraud’s face when 
she said that. It’s a shame, that’s what it is, the 
way he’s imposing on Dick’s folks. I’m just bound 
to find him out, so as to expose him for the im- 
postor he is.” 

He meant to warn his chum again, though he 
felt pretty confident the other would only laugh at 
him, Dick was so frank and unsuspicious himself 
by nature. 


THE NIGHT ALARM 


135 


“If I should happen to get real sick, Polly, he 
heard the wanderer saying, “I want you to open 
my bundle, and you’ll find just a little mite of 
money I’ve hung on to, enough I hope to put me 
under the ground decently. I’d feel pretty badly 
if I thought I’d come all the way from Alaska just 
to make you additional expense in burying me.” 

“Don’t speak of it, Silas,” said Mrs. Horner, 
shaking her head. “You’re going to rest a bit 
now, and perhaps when you get stronger, there 
may open up some way for you to earn a little 
money. We haven’t reached the end of our scanty 
resources yet, I hope.” 

“And my quarterly pension money will be com- 
ing along about the first of the year, when we can 
pay all we owe, and have a bit left over,” said 
Grandpop Horner, proudly. “Ah! I reckon I 
earned all Uncle Sam pays me now in my old age, 
when you remember the terrible sufferings we en- 
dured. Many a time I lay on the cold ground in 
a storm so that my hair was frozen to the soil, and 
a comrade had to actually chop me loose with a 
hatchet in the morning.” 

The garrulous old veteran was so full of remin- 
iscences, and could be started off so easily, that 
Dick and his mother always had to be ready to turn 
the conversation into another channel, once he be- 
gan to “remember.” 

No doubt grandpop found an attentive listener 


136 THE F. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


in the returned wanderer, for they had spent many 
hours smoking together while the housewife car- 
ried on her numerous duties. 

Leslie had really come over on this occasion to 
find out when Dick considered the time ripe for 
springing the great surprise on Deacon Nocker. 
He was beginning to feel impatient about it, and 
told Dick as much later on that evening as they 
sat in the latter’s little room. 

“Never fear,” Dick assured him, “but what it’s 
going to be brought to a climax soon now. I think 
we’ve got the old gentleman so wrapped up in lit- 
tle Billy that he would accept a dozen relatives 
rather than have the youngster pass out of his life 
forever. The deacon is a changed man these days, 
lots of people have said; and we know what the 
reason for it is.” 

“Are you meaning to let him meet his daughter- 
in-law as Mrs. Smith,” continued Leslie, “and get 
interested in her too, before he learns the stagger- 
ing truth that Billy really belongs to him?” 

“Mr. Holwell thinks that would be the best 
plan,” replied Dick. “He says if the deacon tries 
to meet the child’s mother soon, not to interfere.” 

“Huh! the easiest way to bring that about,” 
said Leslie, eagerly, “would be just to have Billy 
stay at home a couple of days. Then you bet Mr. 
Nocker’ll hurry over and ask to see the child’s 
mother, so as to inquire about Billy.” 


THE NIGHT ALARM 


137 


“Just what Mr. Holwell suggested,” remarked 
Dick. “I’ll speak to her about it tomorrow. We 
can fix it so when the surprise is sprung perhaps a 
few of us who are most interested may be on hand 
to see how the old man acts when he learns the 
truth.” 

“Good for you, Dick!” cried Leslie. “I’d give 
a heap to be there when he hears that Billy is his 
sure-enough grandson. And I give you my word 
he’ll never dream of doing anything but taking 
Tilly, his boy Amos’ widow, to his heart to keep 
forever. Wheel but this is a glorious scheme 
you’ve been playing, a thousand times better all 
around than any one of Nat’s grand games, that 
are always cruel.” 

“I’ve certainly had more real enjoyment out of 
it so far than Nat could have found in all his 
pranks bunched together,” asserted Dick. “Be- 
sides, it’s going to do several people good; and my 
mother has backed me up in it, which pleases me 
a whole lot in the bargain.” 

“Listen! that’s the wind commencing to blow, 
and from the north, too, Dick. ^ I had a hunch it’d 
come up strong about ten tonight, and give us some 
real winter weather again. How it moans around 
the corner of the house. They say that’s always a 
sure sign of cold weather.” 

“Let it blow,” laughed Dick, “so far as I’m 
concerned. We’ve got a tight roof overhead, and 


138 THE Y, M.C, A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 

plenty of coal in the cellar, for a time at least. If 
the cold gives us a thick coat of ice on the pond for 
skating, so much the better. But as you say it does 
begin to howl like sixty around that north end of 
the house.” 

“Wheel I should thing your Uncle Silas” — 
how Leslie did enjoy putting emphasis on that 
word “Uncle” whenever he spoke it — “would 
shake hands with himself over the change in his 
fortunes since he struck the Horner cottage. If 
he had to camp out on a night like this he’d shake 
half to pieces.” 

“Oh I I’m glad he doesn’t have to,” remarked 
Dick, firmly. “He’s told us a good many thrilling 
things that have happened to him in all these years 
of his wanderings; and I guess the poor old chap 
feels like a ship that’s reached the end of its last 
voyage.” 

Leslie laughed softly at hearing Dick say this. 

“I don’t know about that, Dick,” he ventured 
to remark. “According to my notion, he’s got con- 
siderable of a hold on life yet. Mebbe now that 
things have turned so pleasant for him he may lin- 
ger a long time. They nearly always do, my father 
says, with no worries on their minds.” 

“Hark! wasn’t that the fire bell?” suddenly de- 
manded Dick, jumping up. 

“It sure enough is!” echoed the other boy, as 
the clanging sounds came more plainly than be- 


THE NIGHT ALARM 


139 


fore; “and what a terribly hard night for a blaze, 
too. Where’s my hat and coat, Dick? I never 
could keep from running to a fire.” 

“Fm with you there, old fellow!” said Dick, 
as he hastily donned his outer garment, after which 
both lads hastened from the house. 

“Look there I” exclaimed Leslie, almost immedi- 
ately. “A bright light is leaping up; and Dick, 
honest to goodnesi it’s coming from that direction 
too. Fm afraid it must be either Deacon Nocker’s 
house, or the Brandon place next door 1” 


CHAPTER XVII 


AT THE FIRE 

“The Brandon place!” echoed Dick, catching 
his breath as a sudden chill passed over him. 
“What if it should be, and little Billy there 1” 

Somehow neither of them seemed to give one 
thought to the old deacon. Indeed, possibly in all 
Cliffwood there could hardly have been found a 
single boy who would have cared a snap of his 
finger if Jed Nocker’s fine house went up in flame 
and smoke. 

“Let’s get away 1” suggested Leslie, hastily. 

“I’m with you 1” Dick snapped out, and with 
that both started at headlong speed, making in the 
direction of that bright and ever increasing light. 

One good thing was that they would not have 
very far to run, for the Brandon place, as well as 
that of the deacon adjoining, was only a short dis- 
tance from the modest home of the Horners. 

Hardly had they started when they became 
aware of the fact that others besides themselves 
were heading toward the scene of the conflagra- 
tion. Swiftly moving figures could be discovered 


140 


AT THE FIRE 141 

in the half darkness, and all converging toward 
the same spot. 

Sounds, too, began to be heard. Whenever that 
metallic clang started in Cliffwood, as the ham- 
mer was beaten on the suspended steel rim of a 
railway locomotive driving wheel, it aroused the 
most intense excitement. 

People could be heard shouting across back 
fences, asking one another where the fire could be. 
Doubtless, the one thought in the minds of all 
was that with that rising north wind it would prove 
to be a bad night for a conflagration. 

The alarm still continued to sound. Men came 
dashing out of houses wearing their enameled fire 
hats, and perhaps hakily drawing on their leather 
coats. The fire-fighting department of Cliffwood, 
like most towns of its size, was a volunteer one, 
the members serving as a duty they owed to the 
community. 

“Faster, Dick!” gasped Leslie, as the two boys 
hastened along. “She’s bulging up like every- 
thing, don’t you see? And it’s sure enough that 
place !” 

Dick knew that already, for he had the lay of 
the land well fixed in his mind. It meant that 
Billy, yes, and Billy’s little mother as well, might 
be in dire danger, for the cruel flames would be no 
respecter of persons. 

So the boys ran at even a faster gait than before. 


142 THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


if such a thing were possible. When, presently, 
they arrived at the gate of the Brandon place, it 
was to find that others were ahead of them. Quite 
a group of people could be seen in the grounds, 
staring at the spectacle presented by the burning 
house, exchanging all manner of comments, but 
really doing nothing to save life or property, from 
lack of a leader. 

The first thing Dick did was to cast his eyes 
hastily around. He was, of course, looking for 
some sign of the handsome little chap and his 
mother, Tilly. When that sweeping look failed to 
find either of those in whose welfare he was so 
deeply interested, Dick again felt a coldness in the 
region of his heart. 

A great shouting down the road announced that 
the fire laddies were coming on the run with the 
machine. They would be on hand in a few min- 
utes, Dick realized, but at the same time it was 
evident that even seconds were precious, and mights 
cost those in peril their lives. 

Leslie gripped his arm just then. 

“See there, isn’t that she, Dick?” he cried, husk- 
ily, for he was laboring under great excitement, 
and it was really a wonder he could speak at all. 

“I don’t see her,” Dick replied, anxiously, as he 
scrutinized the little group at which his chum was 
pointing his finger. 

“Oh ! I didn’t mean Billy’s mother,” Leslie has- 


AT THE FIRE 143 

tened to explain. “I meant the woman she has 
stopping with her to help with the work.” 

Dick saw now, and was off like a flash, leaving 
his chum to follow at his heels. If any one would 
know about Billy and his mother, surely Mrs. 
Kelly should. She was trying to answer the num- 
erous questions being showered upon her by those 
around; but since virtually no one knew that there 
had been a tenant in the Brandon house they could 
not realize the extreme gravity of the situation. 

Dick pushed his way into the group. He seized 
hold of the excited woman’s arm, and there was 
something so like authority in the boy’s action that 
Mrs. Kelly stopped crying and turned toward him. 

“Where are Billy and his mother?” demanded 
the boy. 

The woman turned and pointed at the burning 
house, one end of which was by this time a mass 
of flames. 

“In there. I’m half afraid,” she half screamed. 
“Oh ! the pore little chappie and his swate mother 
will be kilt entirely I do be afraid I” 

“What’s that?” demanded a hoarse voice just 
then, and half turning his head, Leslie saw the dea- 
con standing there, his face white, and drawn as 
with a spasm of pain. 

Possibly Dick knew the old man was at his elbow 
but he had no time just then to bother with him. 
With little Billy in deadly peril, the affairs of Dea- 


144 THE F. M. C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


con Nocker played a very small part in the boy’s 
mind. 

Something must be done, and that without loss 
of time. Undoubtedly, the widow must be asleep 
in the burning mansion, quite unaware of the dan- 
ger surrounding her; and of course Billy shared 
her peril. 

Dick whirled on his chum. Well did he know 
that Leslie would stand back of him in the rash 
undertaking that he was now bent on accepting; 
for he had seen this comrade tested on many a pre- 
vious occasion, and in every instance Leslie had 
proven as true as steel. 

“We must make the try, if you’re ready to go 
in with me !” he cried, pointing to where the front 
door of the building stood invitingly open, the 
work-woman having evidently escaped by that 
means when she found the house afire. 

“You bet I’m going to make the try I” Leslie 
assured him. 

“Wait till the firemen get here, boys I” urged 
one woman, who possibly had boys of her own at 
home, and shuddered at the thought of their dash- 
ing into the doomed house, even though it were to 
save human life. 

“It might be too late then,” snapped Dick. 
“Come on, Leslie. Wet your handkerchief in this 
bucket, and cover your nose with it as much as you 
can, for the smoke will be something terrible.” 


AT THE FIRE 


14.5 


That was a most sensible suggestion which Dick 
made. Even if they did not come into contact 
with the leaping flames, the smoke was thick 
enough to smother them. 

Several of the men who had stood around do- 
ing nothing, upon seeing what the two daring boys 
meant to attempt, called out to them. Some ap- 
plauded their schemes, while others told them they 
were foolish, because the chances were they would 
not only fail to accomplish anything but lose their 
own lives in the bargain. 

“Let them alone, can’t you?” shouted the shrill 
voice of Deacon Nocker. “They are ten times 
braver than any one of you cowards; and they will 
save Billy yet, I know they will — they mustf I tell 
you ! Go on, boys, and God bless you I” 

Neither Dick nor Leslie would soon forget that 
moment while they dabbled their handkerchiefs in 
the cold water contained in the pail, and then 
dashed headlong through the open door of the old 
Brandon house. 

“Keep in touch with me I” Dick had called out 
over his shoulder; for the flames and the shouting 
people made such a racket by this time that one 
had to raise his voice in order to be heard. 

Then they vanished from the gaze of the hor- 
rified group ; and doubtless many of the onlookers 
firmly believed they would never again set eyes on 
the venturesome lads. 


146 THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD . 


It was fortunate that Dick knew all about the 
interior of that house, thanks to his frequent vis- 
its. Had it been otherwise, he might have flound- 
ered around, and led his chum into a trap from 
which escape would have been difficult, if not im- 
possible. 

The smoke was very dense, so that seeing was 
a hard task. Through the billows of black vapor 
they could, however, catch glimpses of the darting 
flames that looked like red tongues licking up the 
woodwork of the doomed building. 

Dick had no particular plan arranged, for the 
whole thing had come upon them so suddenly that 
there had been little time to do any thinking. He 
meant to get to where he expected to find the 
widow and her boy, perhaps unconscious in the 
smoke; and then rescue them in some manner, it 
might be by means of the windows. 

Groping his way along the hall, Dick found him- 
self at the foot of the stairs up which he and his 
companion must make their way, for the sleeping 
rooms were all on the second story. 

The fire was dreadfully close. They could feel 
its burning heat upon their faces, and despite the 
ready handkerchiefs, the pungent smoke almost 
choked them. Nevertheless, Dick did not hesi- 
tate for even a fraction of a minute. Up those 
stairs they must rush, no matter if the fire had al- 
ready seized upon the railing in places. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


THE DARING RESCUE 

Just how they made their way up those stairs 
Leslie never could tell. The first thing he knew 
he found himself on the upper landing, and fac- 
ing a sheet of flames that made the whirling smoke 
wreaths look strangely like some kind of demon 
stretching out a myriad hands toward him. 

Dick was for pushing on, even though to do so 
he had to advance in the direction where the 
fire was most furious. He kept fingering the wall 
as he went, because with one hand holding the tied 
handkerchief partly over his eyes he could not de- 
pend on his sight to tell him when he reached the 
door of the room in which he knew the widow had 
taken up her quarters with her little son. 

Fortunately, it was not at the extreme rear of 
the house, where the fire seemed to be in absolute 
control. Dick remembered feeling very thankful 
on this account as he continued to grope his way 
along. 

Whenever the flames died down for a second 
or two, the utmost darkness reigned in that upper 


147 


148 THE F. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


hall. Then, suddenly, there would come another 
flash of brilliant illumination, accompanied by a 
dull roar. 

Now they had reached the door he sought. To 
the horror of the boy when he turned the knob, it 
refused to give way. Evidently, when Mrs. 
Nocker went to her room earlier in the evening, 
she had locked the door, being more or less timid 
about sleeping in the big house, with only Mrs. 
Kelly for company, and she in a distant part of the 
building. 

Dick commenced to pound on the door with his 
clenched fist. Leslie added to the din by kicking 
furiously at the panels. 

“Tilly! wake up! wake up!” shouted Dick, us- 
ing the name he had heard his mother speak so 
often; for this young widow of Amos Nocker had 
seemed almost like her own daughter to kind- 
hearted Mrs. Horner. “Mrs. Nocker, wake up !” 

There was no reply to all this racket. Appar- 
ently, the smoke had reduced the inmate of the 
room to a condition where she knew next to noth- 
ing of what was going on around her. 

Some boys would have been tempted to give up 
in despair when meeting with such apparently in- 
surmountable difficulties. Dick was not built along 
that order. He no longer used his fists to pound 
on the door, but started to hurl himself against the 
panels as furiously as possible. 


THE DARING RESCUE 


149 


Again and again did he cast his whole weight 
forward, regardless of the shock he sustained 
through the impact. He could feel that with each 
successive smash the fastenings of the door seemed 
to weaken. This encouraged the boy to even 
great^er exertions, and there was Leslie, too, add- 
ing his weight to the assault. 

After half a dozen blows of this character, the 
door could hold out no longer, and Dick found 
himself staggering into the room. It was filled 
with smoke, though as yet the flames had not in- 
truded. 

Dick started to grope his way over to the near- 
est window, which, upon reaching, he threw wide 
open. This created a draught of air, and started 
the stagnant smoke to moving outwardly. 

“Here they are, Dick I” he heard Leslie shout- 
ing, and it gave him a thrill just to know that he 
had at least made no mistake in the apartment. 

The widow must have fallen asleep in her chair, 
for she was fully clothed, and had undoubtedly 
been unconsciously inhaling the suffocating smoke 
as she slept. Billy was in his little bed close by, 
his curly head almost covered by the spread, which 
fact Dick believed had been the main cause for 
his not succumbing before now. 

When Dick shook him the boy aroused himself. 
He was drowsy, and hardly seemed to know where 
he was, or who had awakened him. 


150 THE F. M. C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


Dick snatched the child up in his arms, wrap- 
ping a blanket around him. Leslie, in the mean- 
time, was shaking Tilly, with some hope of arous- 
ing her to a sense of her peril, for neither of the 
boys could readily carry her from the building. 

He was meeting with some measure of success, 
too, for already Tilly had moved, and possibly the 
shock of finding herself surrounded by smoke 
would start her into fresh activity. 

“Can you get her on her feet?’’ shouted Dick in 
his chum’s ear. 

“I’ll do my best,” replied the other, bravely. 

“Wait for me here,” Dick went on to tell him. 
“I’ll take a look, and see if we dare risk the stairs 
again.” 

Dick had not forgotten those creeping flames 
that were already attacking the banisters when they 
ascended. He had a fear that even in so short a 
time they might have attained such headway as to 
make a further use of the stairs impossible. 

No sooner had he pushed out into the upper 
hall than he discovered that his worst fears were 
realized, for the fire had made such headway that 
the stairs seemed to be a mass of flames, through 
which any descent might be reckoned impossible. 

Back into the room Dick hurried. The little fel- 
low whom he had swathed in the blanket, moved 
uneasily in his arms, but seemed fairly content to 
allow himself to be taken care of. Perhaps he 


THE DARING RESCUE 


151 


had recognized Dick’s voice when the boy spoke in 
his ear, and felt the utmost confidence in his pro- 
tector. 

Once in the room, Dick found to his extreme sat- 
isfaction, that Leslie had succeeded in arousing the 
young woman. Tilly was able to walk by now, 
though still in a half stupor, and hardly compre- 
hending what it all meant. 

“How about it?” shouted Leslie, as he discov- 
ered the presence of his chum; and it must be con- 
fessed that there was considerable anxiety in 
his tone, for the situation looked most desperate. 

“No use trying the stairs again,” Dick sent back 
at him. “They’re all afire. We must escape 
through a window, I reckon !” 

This was not the most comforting news Leslie 
could have received, for when he had thrust his 
head out of the said window it was to see forked 
flames shooting from below, and twisting upwards 
menacingly. 

Dick himself did not like the looks of things it 
seemed, for after a hurried examination, he drew 
back again. 

“Cut off there, it looks like !” he called. “Along 
at the other window there’s a better chance. Come 
after me, and fetch Mrs. Nocker.” 

The other window he kicked out as he reached 
it, and the jangling glass must have made a queer 
sound as it rattled to the ground below. One look 


152 THE F. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


told Dick that so far the lire had not reached this 
particular section of the house. The earth lay 
about fifteen feet below, and had he only himself 
to think about a handy water pipe would have 
afforded him a ready means of getting down. 

Placing Billy on the floor, Dick darted over to 
the bed he had seen in a corner of the room. From 
this he snatched all the covers, sheets, blankets 
and spread, and was back at the window in a 
“Jiffy,” as he would himself have said. 

Again looking out he saw that there were mov- 
ing figures down below. Some of the fire-fighters 
had arrived, and were hurrying around the house 
to find where they could best attack the flames, 
once the water came into the hose they carried. 

Dick instantly started to shout at them, and 
great was the surprise of the men at discovering a 
head in the open window; for like most of Cliff- 
wood’s citizens, up to then they had firmly believed 
the Brandon place untenanted. 

“Come below here!” was what Dick called at 
the top of his voice. “There is a child up v/ith us, 
and a lady too. The stairs are all ablaze, and 
we can’t get down that way. You must help us !” 

“All right, sonny!” shouted the foreman, whom 
Dick recognized as big Hen Hess, the brawny 
blacksmith of the town. “We’ll have you out of 
that safe and sound, never fear. Don’t jump, 
whatever you do !*’ 


THE DARING RESCUE 


153 


With that he sent several of the men hurrying 
away. No doubt they were intending to fetch a 
ladder; but impatient Dick could not wait for that. 
He hurried once more back to the bed, and car- 
ried the mattress with him across the room, thrust- 
ing it through the window, and allowing it to fall 
to the ground. 

Next, he snatched up a blanket and hurled this 
down to the hands uplifted to catch it. 

“Hold that out, for Fm going to drop the boy 
down !” he shouted between his two hands, held up 
in lieu of a speaking trumpet. 

The firemen knew their business, and four of 
them instantly stretched the stout blanket as wide 
as it would go. Then Dick, without the least hesi- 
tation, held little Billy, still swathed in his cover- 
ing, through the window, and let him drop. 

“Bully! he’s safe, all right!” exclaimed Leslie. 

Tilly gave a scream when she saw Dick let 
her little darling drop; but on discovering that 
the child was safe, had once more shown that she 
was fully aroused to the occasion. She assisted 
Dick to fasten one end of some knotted sheets 
around her body under the arms, and was even in 
the act of clambering through the window, mean- 
ing to allow the boys to lower her, when Leslie 
gave a whoop. 

“There they come with the ladder, Dick! We 
go down as easy as falling off a log, after all !” 


CHAPTER XIX 


HURRYING MATTERS ALONG 

“It^S coming just in time !” Dick was telling him- 
self, when he saw what rapid headway the flames 
were making around that side of the house. 

A delay of five minutes might have imperiled 
their chances for escape. And on that account, 
Dick was glad to see some of the firemen rushing 
a ladder straight toward the window, with a pack 
of excited people following at their heels, eager 
to observe what was going on. 

When the ladder was placed, Dick instantly 
clambered out, and upon it. He did not mean that 
any of the firemen should have the credit for res- 
cuing Mrs. Nocker after he and his chum had 
gone as far as they had. 

“Help her out, Leslie,” he shouted to the other; 
“and then you come along too.” 

Tilly was still frightened by all these exciting 
conditions, but she had seen her darling saved 
from the flames, and was ready to do whatever 
she was told. So with the help of both the boys. 


154 


HURRYING MATTERS ALONG 155 


she soon had her feet planted on a rung of the 
ladder, and had commenced the descent. 

Loud shouts of approval arose from the specta- 
tors, who by now had recognized Dick and his 
companion. 

“It’s the Widow Horner’s boy!” he heard one 
woman shrilly call out; and somehow Dick felt a 
flush of pride at realizing that on this occasion at 
least he need experience no sense of shame at be- 
ing placed in the spot-light. 

All reached the ground in safety, and were 
quickly surrounded by the exultant people. Many 
curious glances were cast at Tilly, for it must be 
remembered that she was an utter stranger in Cliff- 
wood, and few had even known that the Brandon 
house boasted an occupant. 

Naturally, the first thing in Mrs. Nocker’s mind 
was her boy. Until she had him again in her arms, 
she could not stop to answer any questions, or even 
take notice of friendly offers of temporary shelter, 
such as kind-hearted people were only too ready 
to make. 

“Take me to my child!” she kept crying, half 
hysterically. “I want my Billy! Oh! I hope he 
has not been burned ! Didn’t you say he was safe, 
Dick, dear Dick? What do we not owe you I But 
take me to Billy, please !” 

No one could blame the poor little woman for 
acting in this nervous fashion, after the exciting ex- 


156 THE Y. M, C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 

periences through which she had just gonfe. Least 
of all did Dick think of considering her weak. He 
was too happy over having succeeded in his task 
to think of Tilly in any other way than that she 
had shown remarkable bravery for one of her 
sex. 

“Where is the child?” he asked one of the gap- 
ing bystanders. 

“A woman took him in her arms, and carried 
him back yonder,” was the reply, when another 
man chimed in with his share of information : 

“It was Mrs. Pettijohn, the tailor’s wife. She 
said she would be only too glad to take the child 
over to her house across the way, and give him 
and his mother shelter 1” 

“There she is talking to Jed Nocker!’^ added 
still a third member of the group, pointing as he 
spoke. 

Nothing could hold Tilly back now, and Dick 
did not make any attempt to detain her, although 
something seemed to tell him that there was dan- 
ger of his well laid plan being brought to a crisis 
in an unexpected and altogether hasty manner. 

When they reached the spot where Mrs. Petti- 
john stood with Billy, still partly swathed in his 
blanket, in her arms, it was to find that Deacon 
Nocker was demanding the possession of the lit- 
tle fellow. 

“Give him to me, Mrs. Pettijohn!” he was say- 


HURRYING MATTERS ALONG 157 


ing, holding out his arms entreatingly. But the 
woman shook her head, for she could not see why 
she should surrender any child to a man who had 
always been known to detest all young people. 

“Why should I do that, Mr. Nocker?” she told 
him, aggressively. “You know nothing about chil- 
dren, and I’ve raised seven in my day. Besides, 
excuse me for saying it, but you’re really the last 
one in all Cliffwood I’d want to hand this little dar- 
ling over to just now. He’d break his heart cry- 
ing just to look at your face.” 

“But you don’t understand, Mrs. Pettijohn,” 
urged the excited deacon, still with arms extended; 
“Billy and I are already good friends. We have 
been together every day for weeks now. He 
knows me, and cares a lot for me. My house is 
close by, and he can have everything he needs; 
yes, and his mother too, if she will accept of my 
hospitality. Billy, come to me, my fine boy, won’t 
you ?” 

Billy evidently recognized the old gentleman, 
for he did make some sort of half movement in 
the arms of the tailor’s wife. Just then Tilly her- 
self pounced upon them. 

Mrs. Pettijohn realized who the little woman 
was, and she readily surrendered the child to 
her motherly care. Fiercely, Tilly strained him to 
her heart, at the same time covering his sweet face 
with burning kisses! Then she would hold him 


158 THE Y. M. C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


off to gaze anxiously as though still half filled 
with dread lest she discover some hideous mark 
where the cruel tongues of fire had licked his ten- 
der skin. 

Billy put his arms about her neck again and 
again. Of course, he was too young to know what 
all this fuss was about, but the smoke smarted his 
eyes so that the tears had been running down his 
cheeks, and he was looking unusually charming in 
the eyes of the eager deacon. 

Dick laid a hand on the arm of his chum. For 
the time being both of them apparently forgot all 
about the burning house, and the hustling firemen 
who had finally succeeded in getting a line of hose 
to work. Both lads were intensely interested in 
the little drama that was being played before their 
eyes, and with which they had had so much to 
do. 

The deacon hovered close by. Evidently, he 
was only waiting to repeat that generous offer of 
his as to a harbor for the two who were without 
a roof to cover them. Dick wondered what Mrs. 
Nocker would say, now that she found herself face 
to face with the hard-hearted old man who had 
written her that cruel letter. 

One of the women had been thoughtful enough 
to fetch the blanket along which Dick threw from 
the window before allowing little Billy to drop. 
This she wrapped the best she could about Tilly, 


HURRYING MATTERS ALONG 159 

now shivering with the chill air; so that as she 
stood there she looked not unlike some Indian 
squaw carrying her papoose in her arms. 

“Watch, Dick, for it’s coming now!” said Les- 
lie, in his chum’s ear, as he saw old Mr. Nocker 
pushing forward, as though determined to assert 
his rights as the nearest neighbor. 

“Pardon me, madam,” they heard the deacon 
say, as softly as he could tone down his usually 
harsh voice. “Are you Billy’s mother?” 

Tilly did not need to be told who the old man 
with the stern face was. Doubtless she had 
watched him in secret many times when he was sit- 
ting there on that bench chatting with her child, 
and perhaps felt her heart fail her as she contem- 
plated the severe expression on his countenance. 

Still, Dick noticed with secret admiration that 
she did not quail when the supreme test came, but 
stood her ground bravely. It might be that Tilly 
felt she was doubly armed now, knowing what a 
firm hold Billy had taken on the affections of his 
grandfather. 

“Yes, sir, I am Billy’s mother,” she said, sim- 
ply. 

“And I am your next door neighbor. Deacon 
Nocker,” the old man went on to say, eagerly. 
“You must know that your dear little boy and I 
have become great chums of late. I love him with 
all my heart, madam, I assure you ; and it was my 


160 THE F. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


intention to call upon his mother very shortly. See, 
he recognizes me now. Billy, tell your mother we 
are the best of friends, won’t you?” 

Billy held out a hand toward him, which Mr. 
Nocker instantly pounced upon and gripped. Dick 
experienced a queer sensation when he saw the 
deacon actually bend his head and press several 
eager kisses on that little member. 

“Shucks I it’s nearly too soft a snap !” Leslie was 
muttering in the ear of his chum. “Why, he’d get 
down on his knees to beg her to come to him, 
Dick.” 

“Shut up, can’t you?” hissed the other, not dar- 
ing to remove his gaze froni the exciting little 
tableau for even a single second. “Watch and 
see what happens next. There’s many a slip, you 
know, when you think everything dead sure!” 

“Huh ! I guess he’s landed, all right,” chuckled 
Leslie. “Look at him fairly ready to eat the little 
chap, will you?” 

The deacon was speaking again now, and cer- 
tainly no one in all Cliffwood had ever heard him 
utter such pleading phrases ; for as a rule he had 
been apt to storm and complain. 

“I have a large and comfortable house, 
madam,” he told Tilly; “and it has been very dark 
and gloomy for a long time now. Pity a lonely 
old man, please, and let a ray of sunshine come 
into my life. Allow me to offer you a home, just 


HURRYING MATTERS ALONG 161 


as long as you would care to stay; and the presence 
of little Billy would repay me a thousand fold. 
Say you will come, I beg of you, for my sake, for 
Billy’s sake!” 

Of course, that was the widow’s chance; and 
bravely did she rise to the occasion. 

“I thank you, sir, for your kind offer of hospital- 
ity,” she told him, “but I could never accept with- 
out explaining something that evidently you have 
never suspected. If I do come to your house, Mr. 
Nocker, it must be at your earnest request after I 
have told you that I am the widow of your son, 
and that this little darling I hold in my arms is 
Amos’ own boy, Billy 1” 


CHAPTER XX 


THE DEACON SURRENDERS 

When Mrs. Nocker said this, both the boys 
fastened their eyes on the old deacon, knowing 
what a severe shock the news must be to him. He 
stared hard at the young woman as though the 
staggering truth found some difficulty in penetrat- 
ing his mind. 

“Billy — you, his mother, belonging to my son 
Amos. I surely must be dreaming, girl I Why, 
that would give the child to me — his grand- 
father!” 

Mr. Nocker jerked these fragments of sentences 
out as though trying hard to comprehend it all. 
His gaze wandered from the eager and pretty face 
of Tilly to the little fellow held in her arms. 

“No, sir, Billy belongs to me, and nothing can 
separate him from his own mother,” she told him 
plainly. “Where I go he goes too; where Amos’ 
wife is not welcome, Billy can never find a home, 
sir. That would be as Amos must have wished if 
he had lived.” 

The deacon saw the point. He knew that he 


162 


THE DEACON SURRENDERS 


163 


had been worsted in the game, and perhaps, to tell 
the truth, the old man was not sorry, because he 
had been engaged in a losing fight for a long while, 
struggling against his better nature. 

“That was a clincher!” muttered Dick, exult- 
antly. 

“You just bet it was,” said Leslie, under his 
breath. “Look at the way he fixes his eyes on 
Billy, will you? There, the little chap is holding 
out both hands to his grandfather. Can he resist 
that, do you think? Well, I guess nixey.” 

Indeed, a grim smile was spreading over the 
strong features of Deacon Nocker. He was a man 
who had seldom been beaten in any business en- 
terprise that had engaged his attention, so that 
the sensation of losing was no doubt rather novel 
to him. Strange to say, he acted as if he rather 
enjoyed it. To yield to such an antagonist as lit- 
tle Billy brought pleasure in its train. 

He opened wide his arms, and gathered both 
mother and child in his embrace. And some of 
the good people of Cliffwood, standing respect- 
fully near by, including Mr. Holwell, the minister, 
believed they saw Deacon Nocker shedding tears 
for the first time on record; but they were tears of 
joy. 

Dick heaved a great sigh of relief. 

“It’s all over but the shouting,” said Leslie, 
with one hand shielding his eyes from the dazzling 


164 THE Y. M. a A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


light of the burning house; though Dick knew very 
well there was another reason for his doing this, 
because Leslie had a tender heart. 

“And,*^ said a voice close to the two boys, “I 
want to congratulate you both on the splendid suc- 
cess of your grand scheme. I was telling Mrs. 
Holwell this very evening, as we sat in my study 
after supper, that I really began to see a great 
change coming over our old friend here. The se- 
cret is plainly revealed; his love for little Billy 
has worked wonders in his heart.’’ 

In fact, Mr. Nocker looked supremely happy as 
he stood there with his new-found treasures held 
tight in his arms. He even deigned to kiss Tilly 
several times, as though already he had found out 
his mistake in refusing to see her at the time he 
wrote that cruel letter. 

“You will never be separated from Billy while 
I live,” he was telling her. “My house is big and 
contains many costly things but when this manly 
little chap comes to bring sunshine into my lonely 
life it will hold the greatest treasure of all.” 

“Those words do you credit, Deacon Nocker,” 
said Mr. Holwell, unable to resist letting the old 
man know how he appreciated his change of heart. 

“Ah! are you there, sir?” exclaimed the other, 
reaching out a hand to the good man. “Then let 
me publicly say this : I made one terrible mistake 
in my life in trying to raise my boy by rod and rule 


THE DEACON SURRENDERS 


165 


alone. Please Heaven, with this dear grandchild, 
love is going to enter into the scheme. This confes- 
sion is the only poor expiation I can make to poor 
Amos.” 

He suddenly seemed to remember the two boys, 
for turning to Dick he went on to say : 

“What do I not owe you, Dick Horner, and 
Leslie Capes, for your gallant conduct in saving 
these dear ones from a cruel death? After this 
hour I shall see boys in a different light from the 
past. Oh I I have been blind and foolish, wilfully 
so, but the boys of Cliffwood will never have oc- 
casion to look upon Jed Nocker as their enemy 
after this. I am a changed man.” 

He shook their hands almost fiercely. Indeed, 
Leslie writhed under the pressure of those bony 
digits of the excited deacon, and rubbed his crushed 
fingers for several minutes afterwards. This was 
the more singular because hitherto Mr. Nocker 
had been one of those cold men whose hand was 
apt to feel flabby when extended in greeting. He 
was certainly a changed man. 

“I wonder what he’ll say,” remarked Leslie, a 
little later, as they stood and watched the fire lad- 
dies work like troopers in trying to save a part of 
the burning structure, “when they tell him what a 
big deal you engineered, Dick.” 

“As how?” demanded the other, though doubt- 
less he could give a pretty good guess. 


166 THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 

“Why, about setting up Tilly in housekeeping in 
the old Brandon place, just so Billy could wander 
over, and get a grip on his granddaddy’s affec- 
tions,” explained Leslie, with a chuckle. 

“Oh! as far as that goes,” said Dick, instantly, 
with his usual generosity, “it strikes me a fellow 
named Leslie Capes is about as deep in the mire 
as I am in the mud.” 

“Get out!” scoffed the other, indignantly. 
“Didn’t your mother send for Tilly to come to her 
house; and wasn’t this scheme pretty much your 
invention?” 

“Yes,” admitted Dick, “but how about the way 
you joined in with me? Tell me what I could have 
done without your help ? Didn’t you interest your 
Uncle Henry in the game, so as to make him put 
up all the money needed to hire this house for Tilly 
and her boy, so they could be right next door to 
Mr. Nocker?” 

Leslie laughed. To tell the truth it pleased the 
boy to know that Dick considered him a worthy 
partner. And it was just- like Dick to want to 
share and share alike with a chum, no matter if 
he himself had done most of the work. 

Meanwhile, the greedy flames fought hard to 
eat up the rest of the house, and as there was 
difficulty in getting a sufficient supply of water for 
the fire engine, at times it looked as though only 
a heap of ruins would be left. 


THE DEACON SURRENDERS 


167 


Hen Hess, the blacksmith, who acted as fore- 
man to the volunteer department, knew how to go 
about blocking the progress of the flames, how- 
ever, and the wind changing helped him consider- 
ably. 

Inside of half an hour, by furious work, the 
gallant fire-fighters had managed to head off the 
flames, and it looked as though the front half of 
the house might be saved. 

“I heard one man say the old rookery was in- 
sured for almost its full value, anyway,” Dick told 
several of the boys who stood there with him; 
“so the owner isn’t going to lose much.” 

“Mebbe he’ll take advantage of the opportunity 
to put up a decent modern building on the 
grounds,” suggested Elmer Jones. 

“I heard Mr. Nocker say he had a good notion 
to buy the place in,” remarked Phil Harkness. 
“He even laughed when he explained that his fam- 
ily was getting so big now he would want more 
ground; and then Billy had kind of got used to 
this Branjdon place too. Say, I have to rub my 
eyes when I hear that man laugh as he does now.” 

“Sure thing,” echoed Peg Fosdick. “Why, be- 
fore this it used to make me shiver to hear him 
chuckle ; but now he shakes all over. And would 
you believe it, he actually turned and grabbed 
hands with me when I stumbled into him by acci- 
dent. Wheel the old world must be coming to 


168 THE F. M.C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 

an end when Jed Nocker’ll do such a thing as 
that.’’ 

Dick found himself yawning. Now that all the 
excitement had died down, and the three people 
in whom he was so deeply interested had gone over 
to the Nocker house, with the fire also well under 
control, the boy was feeling a reaction setting in. 

“Me for home and my comfy bed!” said Les- 
lie, also gaping in sympathy. “If you feel of the 
same mind, Dick, let’s be trotting along.” 

Accordingly, they turned their backs on the 
smouldering fire, where the volunteer department 
still worked industriously. On the way home it 
was only natural that the two chums should dis- 
cuss the late occurrence, and its successful ending. 

“Tilly looked happy enough,” Leslie was re- 
marking as they stood for a minute on the corner 
where their roads separated, both somehow a lit- 
tle loath to say good night. 

“Well, why shouldn’t she?” laughed Dick, hap- 
pily. “The future of Billy was made certain, and 
with old Mr. Nocker as changed as he is, any lit- 
tle mother might be glad to have him for a father- 
in-law. I’m wild to tell my folks all about it. 
Mother will be so delighted, I know.” 

“And wasn’t Mr. Holwell pleased, too?” con- 
tinued Leslie, reflectively. “I guess he hardly un- 
derstands what has happened to crabbed Deacon 
Nocker.” 


THE DEACON SURRENDERS 


169 


“Oh I yes he does,” stoutly asserted Dick. “Mr. 
Holwell makes a study of human nature. He 
knows boys from the ground up, and sour old men 
as well. He told mother that love alone could 
redeem Jed Nocker.” 

“And I reckon it has,” asserted Leslie. 

“Well,” said Dick, as the other turned away, 
“Fm right glad Fve got that thing out of my sys- 
tem, anyhow.” 

“Yes,” Leslie called back over his shoulcfer, 
“and now the next job on hand that is going to take 
up my attention is to investigate a certain gentle- 
man who bears some earmarks of being an im- 
postor. Never mind answering back, Dick. Good 
night 1” 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE boys' library 

‘‘Hello! Peg! on your way to the club room?” 
asked Dick, several evenings later, as he overtook 
the other on the road about half-past seven. 

“Just what I am, Dick,” replied the other, in a 
joyous fashion. “Tonight our new circulating li- 
brary is going to be open to members for the first 
time. You know I was elected chief librarian, 
though in turn every fellow will have a chance to 
serve.” 

“You’ve been working pretty hard on it, I un- 
derstand, Peg?” continued Dick. 

“I guess I have,” chuckled the other, in a 
pleased way. “I always put a lot of vim in any- 
thing I tackle. My dad says what’s worth doing 
at all is worth doing well, and I’m bound to keep 
that rule before me. I’ve hustled to gather up all 
the books that were offered for a starter.” 

“How many have you on the shelves now. Peg?” 

“Seventy-seven, and more promised,” explained 
the young librarian. “Besides, we are going to 
make out a list of thirty new ones that Mr. Hol- 


170 


THE BOYS' LIBRARY 


171 


well approves, and Leslie’s Uncle Henry says he 
will foot the bill.” 

“That sounds great!” declared Dick; “and I’m 
glad for one you had that idea come to you. I 
wonder what Mr. Loft over at the Free Library 
thinks of this new scheme?” 

“I heard that he sniffed some when he first 
heard of it. But after Mr. Holwell had a heart- 
to-heart talk with him, Mr. Loft seems to have 
drawn in his horns. Between you and me I think 
he’s seeing a new light. Mebbe he’s beginning to 
be afraid this may be the entering wedge that will 
lose him his nice job sooner or later.” 

“I’d be sorry to hear that,” observed Dick. 
“Mr. Loft belongs to the Puritan days when a 
man didn’t dare kiss his wife on a Sunday. He 
ought to wake up and understand that this is the 
twentieth century, not the seventeenth.” 

“I agree with you there,” said Peg, heartily. 
“And it may be Mr. Loft will learn something. 
It’s never too late for that, you know, Dick.” 

“Guess you’re right,” admitted the other. “The 
case of Deacon Nocker proves it. He’s turned 
over a new leaf, let me tell you. Mrs. Nocker says 
he’s as kind as anything cx)uld be, and that both she 
and Billy are happy the livelong day.” 

The boys reached the building which had been 
turned over to the Y. M. C. A. as headquarters. 
It was well lighted up, for like most enterprising 


172 THE Y, M. C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


towns of its size, Cliffwood boasted of an electric 
plant, as well as gas-works and a water supply. 

A number of boys were in the main room, chat- 
ting, and waiting for others to come. Later on 
they expected to listen to a lecture by a gentleman 
who had been with Commander Peary in the 
frozen North, and had a deeply interesting story 
to tell, illustrated by moving pictures of the ice 
and snow regions. 

“Here’s Peg, our fine librarian!” announced 
one fellow as the pair entered. “Now we can see 
what he’s been doing about that new circulating li- 
brary of the Y. M. C. A. boys of Cliffwood.” 

“Yes, get out your key. Peg, and open the door 
to the little room off here,” begged a second im- 
patient member. 

“Just what I mean to do, fellows,” announced 
Peg, smiling with pleasure. “Now, don’t rub it in 
too hard if things are not up to the standard. 
Given a little more time and I promise you it will 
look better.” 

When the door was opened and they trooped in, 
almost filling the small room that had been handed 
over to them for the Boys’ Library, they found 
that several shelves were filled with books. Every 
one of these volumes had its own jacket made of 
some smooth, tough brown paper, with the title 
carefully printed on the back, as well as the name 
of the author. 


THE BOYS^ LIBRARY 


173 


On the little desk were several books in which 
a record could be kept concerning each and every 
book taken out. Peg had taken advice from older 
heads — Mr. Holwell among the rest — and nothing 
was to be left to chance. Peg was always a great 
hand for system, and enjoyed having an opportun- 
ity to put a few pet theories of his into practice. 

“You see,’’ explained the proud librarian, 
“every book here has been approved by Mr. Hol- 
well, who has made a study of juvenile literature. 
He knows as well as anything that boys can’t be 
forced to read books they don’t like; and so he 
says the only way is to give them books with 
enough healthful adventure to make them want to 
read, and with the right kind of uplifting senti- 
ment mixed in to leaven the dough.” 

“That’s the ticket,” asserted Clint Babbett, en- 
ergetically. “If you want to wean boys from read- 
ing stories full of blood and thunder you’ve got 
to give them a substitute that will hold them, and 
yet not do any harm. Boys are queer animals, 
my father always says, and not one man in fifty 
really understands how to handle ’em. And as to 
women, huh, I reckon none of ’em do, after a boy 
gets ten years old.” 

“I like the way Mr. Holwell explains his theory 
of handling boys reading,” said Dick. “He likens 
it to playing doctor, and giving the patient homeo- 
pathic sugar coated pills that contain the medi- 


174 THE F. M. C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


cine wanted. It pleases, and does good at the 
same time.” 

“Another thing,” Peg went on to say, proudly, 
“every one of these volumes is as clean as new, al- 
most. When you take one home with you it’s nice 
to know it didn’t come last from a house where 
they had the measles, or the scarlet fever. You 
see how myself, and a couple of girls who helped 
me, covered the whole lot.” 

“You deserve a bunch of thanks from the boys 
of the Y. M. C. A., Peg,” said Clint. 

“And we will see that he gets it, too,” asserted 
Dick. 

Others coming in just then, the conversation be- 
came more general. Peg being constrained to ex- 
plain his system for keeping track of every book 
taken out by any member of the Boys’ Club. 

“And say,” he told them impressively, “just look 
over these iron-bound rules we have written here 
on this wall chart. You’ll see there is no fee asked 
for taking out a book, but if it’s held over three 
days there’s a penalty of a cent a day to pay. Also, 
if any book comes back in a bad condition the one 
who’s responsible will have to make good.” 

“That’s only fair,” remarked Leslie Capes. 
“Those of us who have given over some of our 
private books to boost the new Boys’ Library along 
want to feel that our interest is going to be pro- 
tected.” 


THE BOYS^ LIBRARY 


175 


A little while later it chanced that Peg, Dick 
and Leslie were sitting together, for no books 
could be taken out until the next meeting night, as 
the arrangements had not as yet been quite com- 
pleted. 

“I wanted to see you on the sly, Dick, for a min- 
ute or two,” remarked Peg, laying a hand affect- 
ionately on the sleeve of the other. 

‘‘Does that mean for me to skip out?” asked 
Leslie, quickly. 

“Oh ! don’t bother about that,” Peg remarked, 
easily. “It isn’t anything so very secret, and you 
can hear as well as Dick. You see it’s about that 
prize Mr. Holwell has offered.” 

Of course Dick was immediately deeply inter- 
ested. He also felt a quiver pass over him as of 
apprehension, though just why this should be he 
could hardly have explained if asked. 

“Go on and tell us, Peg,” he pleaded. 

“In the first place I want you to know I didn’t 
mean to spy on Nat, because I’m not that kind, and 
besides, it wasn’t any of my business,” Peg started 
in to say. “I happened to be sitting on that bench 
in the school grounds that stands behind the big 
tree, fixing my shoelace that had broken, when Nat 
came along with his arm through Dit’s, and what 
did they do but stand close by me, with Nat read- 
ing some new stuff he’d just got up, he said, to add 
to his farce.” 


176 THE F. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


“Oh!’’ was what Dick said, though his eyes 
flashed with interest. “Don’t tell me what it was 
like, Peg, because somehow it might get me started 
along the same line. Of course though, you can 
tell what you thought of it, for I’d like to know.” 

“I hate to say it the worst way, Dick.” 

“Do ^ou mean that it sounded good to you, 
then?” asked Dick, bravely. 

“I never heard anything funnier than the stuff 
Nat got off,” replied Peg, with a grin he could not 
repress. 

Dick and Leslie exchanged glances, the one full 
of encouragement, the other rather dubious. 
When Dit Hennesy said he thought Nat’s farce 
was going to “bring the house down” it was bad 
enough; but then he was Nat’s crony, and might 
be expected to stand up for the other. Now that 
Peg, a good friend of Dick’s, added his unquali- 
fied approval it looked indeed serious. 

“It must have been pretty good stuff then,” said. 
Leslie, grimly; “if it made you double up like that. 
Peg.” 

“It was certainly the greatest thing I ever 
heard,” confessed Peg. “If that is original with 
Nat then he’s sure got a heap more in that big 
head of his than anybody in Cliffwood ever 
dreamed he had. I’m sorry, Dick, it’s running that 
way, but I thought it my duty to tell you.” 


CHAPTER XXII 


DID UNCLE SILAS' EARS BURN? 

Dick braced himself. Not for worlds did he 
want these chums of his to see how badly he felt 
at hearing such lavish praise for the effort of his 
foremost rival. He wanted that golden prize, and 
would be deeply disappointed if he failed to cap- 
ture it. But his pride made him laugh now, and 
assume an indifferent air. 

“Oh! don’t worry about me. Peg,” he told the 
other, hastily. “I’m doing my little best, but if 
Nat is a genius in that line, why, I suppose I’ll 
have to knuckle down and take my medicine, that’s 
all. I hope I’ve got grit enough for that.” 

“And you won’t think of giving up, will you, 
Dick?” asked Leslie, anxiously. 

“I was getting a little weak-kneed a while back,” 
admitted the other, frankly; “but since then I seem 
to have got my second wind. No-siree, I’ll fight 
it out on this line if it takes all winter. And say, 
if I do get knocked out you’ll see my ship going 
down with her colors flying. Hear that?” 

“Bully for you, Dick!” ejaculated Peg, slapping 


177 


178 THE Y, M, C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


him on the back as he arose to go to some other 
part of the big room. It was now filling up with 
older fellows and some of the town people who 
wanted to hear the lecture. 

Dick and Leslie continued to sit there. Oth- 
ers were constantly passing one way or another, 
but paying no particular attention to the two boys ; 
so they did not hesitate to continue their conversa- 
tion as they saw fit. 

‘‘Lm glad you feel that way about keeping in 
the fight to the end, Dick,’^ Leslie went on to say. 

“What else can I do, now that every fellow 
knows I’ve entered for the prize?” demanded 
Dick. “I’m not the one to give up easily, you un- 
derstand. My mother seems to think a heap of 
what I’ve done so far on that farce, and I’ve just 
^ot to finish the same, no matter if it comes in the 
last of the string.” 

“Well, there’s no fear of that!” declared Les- 
lie, positively. “I’ve heard enough of it to say it’s 
just bully stuff.” 

“Oh I that’s nice of you to say so,” laughed Dick, 
a little harshly; “but then you’re my chum, and nat- 
urally prejudiced. I thought the same when Dit 
told how great Nat’s stuff was; but now that Peg 
has endorsed it too, there must be something in 
the thing. But I won’t allow myself to get dis- 
couraged, I promise you that, Leslie. Now, let’s 
change the subject again.” 


DW UNCLE SILAS^ EARS BURN? 179 


“All right, Dick. How are things going over 
at your house nowadays — of course, I mean with 
your wonderful prodigal Uncle Silas, who spent 
his life knocking around the world having a good 
time, and when old age and sickness overtook him 
suddenly remembered that he had a sister some- 
where, and hunted her up so she could take care 
of him?’’ 

Leslie spoke pretty bitterly, because this was 
a sore subject with him. On the other hand, Dick 
shook his head as though in disapproval of such 
radical views. 

“I’d rather you didn’t say such things to me, you 
know, old fellow,” he told his chum. 

“But sure you must be suspecting something like 
that deep down in your own heart, Dick!” pro- 
tested Leslie, earnestly. 

“I don’t let myself think of poor old Uncle 
Silas that way,” said Dick, firmly. “He’s told us 
a whole lot of his struggles, and how often he 
thought he had his hand on a big fortune, only to 
get fooled time and again. And he always says 
that the one thing he thought of was to hunt his 
young sister up, if she still lived, and provide for 
her if fortune was kind to him.” 

Leslie gave an incredulous snort at hearing Dick 
say that. 

“Bah I that’s a clever little yarn he’s gotten up 
to pull the wool over your eyes,” he went on to 


180 THE F. M. C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


say, indignantly. “If he ever had struck it rich, 
none of you’d ever ’ve heard from him. Like as 
not he’d have gone in for a big time. But after he 
began to feel old age and sickness gripping him, 
of course he wanted to hunt Sister Polly up, and 
spin a tale of hard luck.” 

“Well, I reckon you and I will never agree on 
that subject, Leslie.” 

“I’m really surprised at you being taken in and 
fooled so easy, Dick.” 

“Perhaps it’s just as you say,” continued the 
other, “but there’s something about old Uncle 
Silas that seems to appeal to me. I like the look 
in his mild blue eyes. He may have been an ad- 
venturer all his life, but for all that, Leslie, let 
me tell you he’s a lovable old fellow, say what you 
will.” 

“Wheel he certainly has cast a spell over you 
folks for a fact!” declared the other, shrugging 
his shoulders as though almost ready to despair 
of Dick. 

“I guess he has,” admitted Dick, “ for mother 
has taken to him even more than I have. And as 
for grandpop, he loves to sit and listen to Uncle 
Silas telling of the dozens and dozens of strange 
things he’s run across.” 

“Birds of a feather flock together, they say, 
Dick,” chuckled Leslie; “and now your fine old 
grandfather can exchange stories with another who 


DID UNCLE SILAS^ EARS BURN? 181 


has seen a lot of lively times. But for all you say, 
I still hang on to my suspicions, and believe he’s 
either an impostor, not your uncle at all, or else 
that he’s just bent on settling down on your folks 
to be fed and housed for the rest of his natural 
life.” 

“All you can say isn’t going to convince me,” 
Dick told him. “Once or twice in the beginning I 
admit I did begin to lean that way, but I’ve been 
ashamed of feeling suspicious.” 

“Oh ! well, let it pass,” ventured Leslie. 
“ ‘Where ignorance is bliss, ’tis folly to be wise,’ 
they say; and if you’re happy in believing all that 
old chap stuffs into your ears why keep on being 
so, Dick. Only, as your friend, I’ve felt it my duty 
to warn you, that’s all.” 

“If you want to find guilt it’s easy to explain 
every look or chuckle or action that way,” Dick 
went on. “As for me I have come to put consid- 
erable confidence in Uncle Silas. I’m awful sorry 
he’s had such hard luck; and I feel sure he won’t 
think of staying with us right along, so as to be a 
burden.” 

“But I heard your mother say only a few days 
ago, Dick, that if only she had a little more ready 
cash to meet expenses, he should never quit her 
house.” 

“That’s right,” quickly asserted the other, 
proudly. “Her heart is as big as a bushel basket. 


182 THE F. M, C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


It’s one of the Horner traits, or weak points, I 
guess.” 

“Sure, and you’re a Horner in the bargain,” 
said Leslie. 

“I’m afraid I am,” laughed the other boy. “But 
if this little affair would only turn out half as well 
as the other one did — about Mrs. Nocker and her 
boy, I mean, it’d be just bunkum.” 

“No danger of that happening, believe me.” 

“Did I hear you say the books ordered by your 
Uncle Henry had come, Leslie?” 

“Why, yes, we got notice this evening that there 
was a big box for us down at the railroad freight 
house, and it must be the books, Dick.” 

“Our library will look pretty fine once they’re in 
place,” remarked Dick; “and the more I get to 
thinking about Peg’s scheme the better I like it. 
Let me tell you the boys of Cliffwood will owe a 
lot to that uncle of yours, Leslie.” 

“He’s the right kind of an uncle to have,” 
boasted the other, boy-like. 

Just then Leslie turned around, and was im- 
mediately heard to give a low exclamation that 
caught the attention of his chum. 

“What is it?” demanded Dick, himself turning 
to look. 

The room was beginning to fill up with all man- 
ner of people, and many the boys knew, young and 
old, were moving about. 


DID UNCLE SILAS* EARS BURN? 183 


“Why, would you believe it!” snapped Leslie, 
“the miserable old humbug was sitting right be- 
hind us all the while?” 

“Do you mean my Uncle Silas?” asked Dick, 
uneasily. 

“Did you know he expected to come over and 
listen to the lecture tonight?” continued the other 
boy. 

“He asked me some questions about it at the 
supper table,” explained Dick, “and whether an 
admission fee was to be charged those who were 
not members of the Y. M. C. A., but so far as I 
remember. Uncle Silas didn’t say anything about 
meaning to attend.” 

“Well, he’s here all right. And say, I bet you 
he heard every word we said, if he’s got any ears 
at all. He just couldn’t have helped it, Dick.” 

Dick smiled. 

“So far as I’m concerned, Leslie, I’ve no reason 
to be ashamed of anything I said. I’m only sorry 
if he heard you speak of him being an impostor 
and a fraud. Uncle Silas is pretty sensitive. I’ve 
found out. I hope it won’t cause him to make up 
his mind to leave us in a hurry, thinking he’s a bur- 
den. What little he eats doesn’t amount to much, 
and he sure has made both my mother and grand- 
father happier since he dropped in among us.” 

Leslie looked hard at his chum, and shook his 
head in abject despair. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


THE LURE OF THE STEEL RUNNERS 

The lecture was a huge success. Those who 
were fortunate enough to be present gave a vote of 
thanks to the committee that had been energetic 
enough to procure the services of the famous Arc- 
tic explorer without any cost to the association. 

Even such restless fellows as Nat and Dit sat 
spellbound while the gentleman told of the won- 
derful things he had seen amidst the polar ice; 
and they held their breath with awe when he de- 
scribed the dangers he and his daring comrades 
had faced at the time they found themselves lost in 
the frozen wastes. 

For several days afterwards it was a matter of 
congratulation among the boys belonging to the 
Junior Department that they were given an op- 
portunity to hear such treats through the coming 
winter season. 

Of course, there were other meetings, of a 
purely religious nature — meetings usually led by 
strong, vigorous Y. M. C. A. leaders who knew ex- 
actly how to talk to boys and influence them for 


184 


THE STEEL RUNNERS 


185 


good. These meetings were usually well attended, 
and often prompted some wayward lad to “get a 
grip on himself” as Harry Bartlett expressed it, 
and turn over a new leaf. 

“It was a lucky thing for us Mr. Holwell 
thought up this scheme of his,” Leslie was saying 
on Saturday morning, as with several other fel- 
lows he shied stones on to the new ice that had 
formed over the big pond where the first skating 
was always done, to see if it was likely soon to bear 
a fellow’s weight. 

So eager were the boys of Cliffwood to get on 
their skates that hardly a season went by without 
a number of minor casualties, when the thin ice 
gave way, and precipitated the daring leader into 
the pond. 

Once, several years back, a boy had actually 
been drowned here, but that event was by degrees 
being forgotten, and some of the fellows once 
more began to evince the old-time rashness about 
taking chances. 

“Hardly a day passes,” Andy Hale went on to 
say, “but what some new fellows tell me they are 
thinking of handing in their names, with the in- 
tention of joining the Boys’ Club.” 

“First come, first served,” chimed in Peg Fos- 
dick. “Our number has to be limited, because the 
house can’t hold a great many more than belong 
now. That’s what I tell everybody.” 


186 THE F. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


“IVe got a good notion to try that ice !” Fred 
Bonnicastle told them as he sat on a friendly log 
and commenced to fit his skates. 

Possibly Fred was more passionately fond of 
skating than any fellow in Cliffwood. He would 
walk five miles willingly for a chance to spin 
around, and for several years now had been the 
first to try the new ice. 

“Better go a little slow about that, Freddy,” 
cautioned Leslie. “Of course, we all know new ice 
can stand a heap more than when it gets punk and 
rotten from thaws; but even then unless you skip 
along pretty fast you’re apt to break through.” 

“And the pond is higher than ever this year, 
don’t forget, which means more room to paddle in 
if you do break through,” he was warned by Peg. 

“You never knew me to get caught yet,” laughed 
the other, who had a stubborn streak in his make- 
up. “The secret of my success has been the swal- 
low way I dart around. The new ice will bend 
like india-rubber, but before it can think of crack- 
ing, shucks I I’m away off, and still going.” 

“There comes Dick, and from the grin on his 
face I’d like to wager a cookey he’s just half tickled 
to death over something,” ventured Leslie, whose 
quick eye had detected his chum’s approach. 

Dick had his skates suspended by a strap over 
his shoulder. Perhaps he did not really expect to 
have a chance to use them, but then it always made 


THE STEEL RUNNERS 


187 


him feel hopeful to get them out for the first time 
of a crisp winter morning. 

“What’s happened, Dick?” demanded one of 
the boys, as the other came up. 

“You look as happy as pie,” remarked Peg; 
“has some kind relative gone to a better country, 
and left you his little fortune?” 

“Oh! it only means that a great big load has 
been lifted from my shoulders, that’s all,” Dick 
told them. 

“I know what he means, fellows 1” sang out Les- 
lie. “He’s finished that farce of his at last. Bully 
for you, Dick; I knew you’d stick everlastingly at 
it till the thing was done. And I hope you let us 
hear it from beginning to end.” 

“I handed it over to the committee this very 
morning,” announced Dick. “The time limit ex- 
pires on Monday, you know. They said all of the 
entries were in but two, and from what I’ve heard 
about Toby and Frank I’m afraid they backed out 
after making a try.” 

“But that’s too bad,” expostulated Peg, “be- 
cause we all hoped to hear you read your farce be- 
fore the committee decided on the winner.” 

Dick laughed, a little harshly it must be con- 
fessed. 

“Well, as I’ve got a copy of it you may have 
that great pleasure still,” he told them. “Perhaps 
it’s the only chance you’ll ever get, for I reckon my 


188 THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


effort isn’t going to set the river on fire; and I’ve 
been hearing wonderful stories about another 
farce, which I expect will walk around my poor at- 
tempt.” 

Most of Dick’s chums had heard more or less 
of the same thing, for Dit Hennesy and Alonzo 
Crane had taken considerable pleasure in boasting 
what a “screamer” Nat’s effusion was going to be. 

Still Peg and Elmer and the rest of them were 
loyal to Dick. They had seen him gain the goal 
many times in races and games, even when the odds 
were against him; and fully believed he must come 
again under the line first. 

“Talk never wins a race, Dick,” said Leslie. 

“And lots of fellows do their shouting before 
the end,” remarked Peg. “I’m banking on you to 
cop that prize, no matter what Nat says.” 

“And remember,” added Elmer, “you’ve as 
good as promised to let us hear the sketch from 
beginning to end at the first favorable opportun- 

ity-" 

“It’s kind of you to want to hear it, that’s all 
I’ve got to say,” laughed the author. “Anyhow, 
a load is lifted off my shoulders. Good or bad, it’s 
got to stand. I’m through bothering over it. If 
Nat’s done something that throws mine in the 
shade, all right. I’ll have to grin and bear it. And 
now, please let up on that subject. I want to for- 
get it for a while.” 


THE STEEL RUNNERS 189 

“Well, here goes!” announced Fred Bonnlcas- 
tle, as he rose to his feet. 

“Are you really meaning to make a test of the 
ice, Fred?” asked Dick, dubiously. “It looks 
mighty thin to me, and I can see several places 
where the big rocks that have been dropped on 
the same have broken through.” 

“Oh I Fm a wonder when it comes to skimming 
over thin ice,” boasted the other, really anxious to 
keep up to his reputation for recklessness, and once 
more open the season as the first to try his skates. 

“Better keep near the shore, then,” advised Les- 
lie. “If you do break through you will only be up 
to your waist, and can wade out.” 

“Don’t worry!” scoffed Fred, as he balanced 
himself on one skate at the edge, and took a quick 
survey of the big pond, as though deciding upon 
his course, “I can swim if it comes to it, you know. 
And somebody has got to be the first to do stunts 
on the new ice.” 

With that he suddenly darted away. 

“Whee! listen to it crack, will you?” exclaimed 
Peg. 

“Oh ! new ice always does that,” asserted Les- 
lie. “I like to hear it snap on a frosty morning 
like this. But say, you can see it bend like any- 
thing under his weight. I don’t believe I care to 
try it yet awhile. I’m more hefty in weight than 
Fred, and never could whip along like he does.” 


190 THE Y. M. C, A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


The venturesome skater was going with the 
speed of the wind, and thus far he had kept within 
a reasonable distance from the shore. Appar- 
ently, he meant to go completely around the pond, 
leaving the white marks of his sharp runners on the 
clear ice, to prove himself the first on skates for 
the season. 

“Just as fine as silk, fellows I” he called out as 
he approached the group. “Some of the rest of 
you had better take a spin along with me. Not a 
bit of danger if you keep on the jump.” 

No one seemed tempted, however. They had 
seen how the thin ice gave under Fred as he 
went on, and knew that it was only the rapidity of 
his flight that kept him from breaking through. 
Should one of his skates become loose, so as to de- 
lay his progress, the chances were as ten to one 
he must meet with a catastrophe. 

“Fm going to take another round!” called out 
Fred over his shoulder. “And then watch me cut 
straight across the middle of the pond.” 

“I guess he means that, too 1” declared Leslie, 
uneasily. “Fred gets more reckless every year. 
Fm afraid something will happen to him yet.” 

“It’s a good thing,” observed Dick, who had 
been looking around meanwhile, “that there’s a 
heap of old boards lying right close by, taken from 
that high fence. If he does break through we’ll 
need the same, you can just believe.” 


THE STEEL RUNNERS 


191 


“Why, it’s ten feet deep out in the middle !” as- 
serted Peg. 

“And the further he goes away from the shore 
the more the sheet of ice is bound to bend under 
him,” said Elmer. “If he keeps his word every 
fellow fasten to one of the boards, and be ready to 
shove it out.” 

“He never could climb up on that thin ice, once 
his clothes get soaked,” Dick continued, “and be- 
fore he could break his way to shore he’d be ex- 
hausted.” 

The skater soon came around again, going very 
fast. He waved a hand flippantly to his friends on 
the shore, and changing his course suddenly darted 
directly out toward the middle of the big pond. 

The other boys ran to the pile of boards, and 
each picked one of the planks up. Hardly had they 
done this than there was a shout^of alarm, a crash, 
and a splash, and reckless Fred Bonnicastle had 
vanished from sight I 


CHAPTER XXIV 


A LESSON IN LIFE SAVING 

“Oh I Fred’s broken in!” shouted Peg Fos- 
dick, in alarm. 

“And right in the middle of the pond, too!” 
echoed Leslie. 

“Get busy!” roared Dick, who had been hold- 
ing himself in readiness for just such an emergency 
from the moment he had heard the reckless skater 
announce his intention of skimming across the 
pond from shore to shore. 

Dick had his little plan of campaign all mapped 
out in his mind. He had a happy faculty for this 
sort of thing. In a flash he could grasp details that 
would have taken some other fellows a minute or 
two to figure out. 

“Fetch the boards along in a hurry!” he shouted 
over his shoulder, for by that time he was fully 
under way. 

Straight to the nearest point of the shore line 
he rushed and dropped his plank. It extended out 
on the ice in a bee-line for the spot where poor 
Fred was splashing and scrambling like mad, try- 


192 


A LESSON IN LIFE SAVING 


193 


ing in his excitement to climb up on the ice, only 
to have it break away, and precipitate him again 
into the cold water. 

Dick took the second board from Leslie, who 
was the first of the others to arrive. 

“Go back and get another!” he told his chum 
sharply, taking it upon himself to act as the leader. 
His chums were so accustomed to seeing Dick in 
the van that no one ever dreamed of questioning 
his right to act in that capacity. “We’ll need a 
heap of ’em. I’m afraid,” he added. 

So Leslie obediently whirled on his heel and hur- 
ried back to the pile. Dick took the plank Elilier 
offered him, and stepping out to the end of the sec- 
ond one dropped it also in a direct line. 

Then came Peg, almost forgetting his usual limp 
in his anxiety to be of service to the imperiled com- 
rade battling for his life out there in the middle 
of the deep pond. A fourth board was thrown 
over the smooth ice so that Dick could reach it 
without stepping off his safe harbor; for as his 
weight was now distributed over ten or twelve feet 
of surface, instead of being concentrated in one 
spot, there was no danger of his breaking through. 

The boys worked like beavers, Dick handling 
the planks as they came along in a master-work- 
man manner. Gradually but surely the line was 
being extended out toward the scene of all the 
commotion, where Fred continued to struggle. 


194 THE Y. M. a A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


While he worked so heroically, Dick did not for- 
get to keep calling out encouragement to the im- 
periled boy. 

“Don’t tire yourself out so, Fred!” he told the 
other. “It’s all right, and we’re bound to get 
you out of there in a jiffy. Just hold on to the ice, 
and give us a chance to do something. We’re com- 
ing as sure as anything. Keep a grip on yourself, 
and don’t let go the ice for your life, Fred!” 

Of course the further Dick got from the shore 
the more difficult it was to shove each new plank 
out to him. As no one dared step on the ice it- 
self the boys were compelled to run out over the 
board line, deliver their burden, and then make 
back to the safety of the shore before the next one 
could start. 

Two more planks would do the business, the 
second to be used sideways so as to afford a land- 
ing-stage, as Dick would have called it. 

“Oh ! hurry, Dick !” gasped Fred. “I’m mighty 
near all in, I tell you !” 

“Forget that!” cried Dick, boisterously, and 
after that he kept on talking in a cheery manner 
to Fred, his intention being to make the other keep 
his mind off his condition of utter exhaustion. 

The next plank brought him close to the hole 
which by this time was a pretty big one, as Fred 
had thrashed around furiously in the endeavor to 
help himself. 


A LESSON IN LIFE SAVING 


195 


“Steady now, old fellow I” said Dick, as he crept 
out on his hands and knees, so as to come in touch 
with the other, and give him renewed confidence. 
“Peg’s fetching the last plank, and we’ll use it 
along the edge here, so you can get your knee on 
the same. Then I’ll drag, and you’ll shove, and 
out you’re going to come as neat as pie. Hurry, 
along. Peg, and then stand by to help !” 

While saying this, Dick was gripping the chilled 
hand of Fred, whose eyes, filled with horror, were 
glued appealingly on his face. 

“You won’t let me drop back, will you, Dick?” 
chattered the other between his rattling teeth, for 
the tremendous excitement and the cold water com- 
bined had taken his courage completely away. 

“Not much !” asserted the boy who crouched on 
the plank. “See, here’s Peg right behind me with 
that board. Shove it along so I can place it where 
it’s going to do the most good. Peg. There you 
are, with a regular landing-stage that won’t break 
away when you climb up. Now, brace yourself, 
Fred, for a big effort; and you Peg, grip hold of 
my coat in the back so as to keep me steady when 
I pull I” 

The boys clustered on the shore watched with 
their hearts in their throats, so to speak, for they 
realized that the crisis was at hand. 

Dick took a fresh grip on Fred’s hand. 

“Up you come, old fellow! Do your level best 


196 THE F. M, C, A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


this time, and it’s going to be all right ! That’s the 
ticket I Whoop ! here you are as safe as could be !” 

Loud shouts arose from Leslie and the rest of 
the group when they saw the dripping Fred emerge 
from the water, and gain a position on the first 
plank. The treacherous ice did not break under 
his weight because the fence board covered such a 
wide section that it was evenly distributed. 

“Can you creep along after me, Fred?” de- 
manded Dick. 

“Sure thing!” came the reply, though Fred 
could hardly speak on account of the way his teeth 
were rattling together. 

Of course Dick kept close watch over his 
shoulder from time to time as he headed for the 
shore; but Fred managed to get to his feet pres- 
ently, and hurried along after his rescuer. 

He was greeted boisterously by the other fel- 
lows. No one chided him on account of his reck- 
less act; they were all too full of gratitude over the 
rescue to think of “rubbing it in.” 

“Now make a bee-line for home as fast as you 
can run,” advised Dick, after he and Leslie had 
unfastened the skates from Fred’s shoes. “Keep 
swinging your arms and coming down hard with 
your feet as you run. Hurry, the ice is beginning 
to form on your shoes and clothes 1” 

With that Fred started off on the run. He was 
shivering, and still weak from his recent exper- 


A LESSON IN LIFE SAVING 


197 


ience, and while knowing what a fright it would 
give his mother to see him coming home in that 
condition, he also understood that he must get into 
dry clothes as soon as possible, or suffer serious re- 
sults. 

“Now, if we’d been away off somewhere, with 
no house near by,” remarked Leslie, as with the 
others he stood and watched Fred gallop home- 
ward; “we’d have had to build a couple of fires, 
and strip Fred so we could rub him down while his 
duds were getting dry. But his mother’ll fix him 
all right.” 

“Whew 1 what a splash he did make out there !” 
exclaimed Peg. 

“I’m glad it wasn’t me,” remarked Elmer; “be- 
cause I’m afraid my father’d take my skates away 
for the rest of the winter. He doesn’t believe in 
boys being so reckless.” 

“All the same,” Andy Hale went on to say, “I 
noticed, Elmer, that you ran out there on the 
planks several times, and if the ice had given way 
you’d have been as deep in it as Fred.” 

“Oh! that was another thing,” replied Elmer. 
“It was to save life that I took a chance, and my 
father always told me he’d stand for that every 
time. I’m not meaning to tell him a word about 
this, but he’ll hear from other people. I know 
he’ll ask me if I was in the bunch, and did my lit- 
tle stunt with the rest. I’d hate to tell him I just 


198 THE F. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


stood by, and never raised a hand to help poor 
Fred.’’ 

“All of you deserve the highest praise,” said 
Dick. “We worked together, and I’m sure I never 
could have got a plank out to Fred before he gave 
up the ghost and sank, without your help.” 

Of course there was no more temptation for 
any of them to make use of their skates. 

Accordingly, the party wended its way back to 
town, and the news of Fred’s mishap was soon 
common talk. Perhaps it might serve to arouse 
the authorities to some action looking to forbid- 
ding skating on the big pond until the ice was 
considered safe for a crowd. 

“How about meeting somewhere this very after- 
noon,” suggested Leslie, as they stopped on a cor- 
ner before scattering to their various homes. 
“Maybe Dick will read his farce to us.” 

“A bully idea!” Peg declared, and others im- 
mediately echoed his words. 

Dick smiled and shrugged his shoulders. 

“Seems as if you’re bent on having it,” he said; 
“and it proves you a bold lot of chums. Well, I’d 
like to know what you think of it, so let’s get to- 
gether in the room Leslie has fitted up in their 
barn, where he’s a stove handy. I’ll be around at 
two o’clock when my chores are done. But don’t 
expect too much, please.” 


CHAPTER XXV 


DICK HAS A SELECT AUDIENCE 

Promptly at two o’clock Dick made his appear- 
ance at the Capes’ barn. Leslie had been given 
the man’s room, which was vacant, to fit up for a 
den. As most boys delight to do, he had the 
walls decorated with college banners, and all man- 
ner of things connected with outdoor sports. 

It made a cheery place where the boy and his 
friends could spend an hour or two in reading or 
playing games. As a rule Dick passed consider- 
able time there in company with his best chum ; and 
many of their plans of the past had actually been 
hatched amidst those congenial surroundings. 

Dick found his friends impatiently awaiting his 
coming. Besides Leslie, there were Phil, Clint, 
Peg, Andy and Elmer sitting or lounging there, 
with the little stove making the room very com- 
fortable. 

“Here he is, and on time in the bargain I” ex- 
claimed Andy. 

“But with not a minute to spare,” added Clint. 
“If it’d been anybody but you, Dick, I’d have be- 


199 


200 THE F. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


gun to think we might be left in the lurch; but 
nobody ever knew you to go back on your word.” 

“Well, I felt pretty much like crawfishing this 
time, I own up,” laughed the latest arrival; “be- 
cause it seemed like a whole lot of nerve for me to 
come here meaning to impose on you with my poor 
stuff.” 

“Huh! just let us be the judge of that, won’t 
you, Dick?” demanded Leslie. “And say. I’m 
glad to see you’ve fetched your old banjo along.” 

“Good boy!” cried Elmer; “I take it you’ve 
gone and got up some coon songs and choruses, 
and mean to let us come in strong on the last 
named.” 

“That’s a little secret,” laughed Peg, “but it 
needn’t be held in any longer. Just the other day 
Susie Banks told me how she and Connie Swazy, 
the Judge’s pretty daughter, got up the music score 
for your words, Dick. And knowing what a fine 
musician Connie is I’m wild to hear the combina- 
tion.” 

“Well, all of you find soft spots, so if you drop 
flat at hearing some of the excruciating jokes my 
end-men get off you won’t be hurt much,” warned 
Dick, pretending to be very serious. 

“We’re willing to risk all that, Dick,” Peg told 
him, confidently. 

“One reason why we want to hear your farce, 
Dick, if you must know it,” said Elmer, frankly, 


DICK HAS A SELECT AUDIENCE 201 


“is this: You know we’ve every one of us been 
picked out by Mr. Holwell to take part in the min- 
strel show those two nights after New Years. 
Each fellow has some specialty to carry through; 
and then some of us are going to take a hand play- 
ing in the black farce, no matter which one wins 
the prize.” 

“Yes,” added Peg, “and we’ve got a heap of 
personal interest in the matter besides. All of 
us are banking on you to win that twenty-five dol- 
lars in gold. We’re boosting your claims to beat 
the band.” 

“Are you all ready, and prepared for the 
worst?” asked Dick, as he settled himself comfort- 
ably to read his little farce, on which he had spent 
many hours after the rest of the family had re- 
tired to their beds. 

“Let her go, Dick; and do your best to bring 
out the strong points,” begged Peg. 

“When I come to a song,” explained the author, 
“I’ll try to give it to you the best way I can, though 
better singers are to be chosen to carry the refrain, 
and one of them I understand is going to be Peg 
here.” 

“How about the choruses — we all join in there, 
I understand?” demanded Elmer. 

“I’ll give you slips of paper with the words of 
the chorus pri^jed on them by typewriter,” ex- 
plained Dick; “and then play the air, so you can 


202 THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


follow it. According to my mind the music is 
going to be the best part of this black farce.” 

“Listen to him, will you?” scoffed Andy Hale. 
“Dick says that because the music is the only thing 
some one else got up, and Connie Swazy at that. 
Of course it’s bound to be good, because that girl 
is a regular genius along those lines. But all the 
same, there are others. Now get away, Dick.” 

If any one had happened to be passing along the 
road a little later he must have been deeply puz- 
zled to account for the hilarious shouts that occa- 
sionally broke out from the Capes’ barn on that 
particular Saturday afternoon. Boyish laughter 
it surely was, and the listener would have certainly 
come to the conclusion that Leslie and some of his 
friends were having a royal good time of it there, 
no matter what engaged their attention. 

They laughed at Dick’s jokes until they were 
weak. Then after Dick had twanged his banjo in 
his clever fashion, and given them the first stanza 
of a coon song, he played the catchy music of the 
smashing chorus, after which all of them joined in 
with a roar, as they were accustomed to doing with 
their familiar school songs. 

After the first song had been sung several times, 
by request, the boys could not refrain from giving 
vent to their enthusiasm. 

“That’s as fine a thing as I ever heard!” de- 
clared Elmer, radiantly. 


DICK HAS A SELECT AUDIENCE 203 


“Words and music are just immense!” said 
Andy. “There’s something worth while in the 
sentiment too, which counts. So many of these 
ragtime things are the silliest stuff going. And say, 
Connie did herself proud when she got up that air. 
I’ll have to keep watching all the while not to be 
humming it, and giving the snap away long before 
the time comes.” 

The others, too, had words of praise for Dick’s 
modest little farce as far as they had heard him 
give it. 

“Why,” said Andy Hale, seriously, “if it keeps 
on like that all the way through, old fellow, it’s 
going to make Nat’s effort look like thirty cents, I 
wager.” 

“Oh 1” said Leslie, who was feeling very happy 
to hear them shower all this praise on Dick, “that’s 
only a sample of what he’s got up his sleeve. The 
best is yet to come. Wait till you hear that ‘Oh ! 
Susannah’ song and chorus; it’ll make you shake 
all over ; and then the music is simply great 1” 

“Shut up, Leslie, can’t you?” admonished Dick. 
“You’ll queer me if you get them expecting so 
much. Now, if you’ve caught your second wind, 
and feel you can stand some more, get ready to 
weep 1” 

Instead of that, they roared the louder. Some- 
times they lay back and shook as if utterly ex- 
hausted, laughing at the comical situations, as well 


204 THE F. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


as the words Dick put in the mouths of his eight 
characters who were supposed to be acting the 
farce. 

When the second song was reached, they had to 
beg Dick to wait a little until they could recover 
their breath before breaking into the chorus. And 
how they did shout it out in concert, as though 
words and music exactly suited their ideas of what 
a negro melody should be. 

So it went on until the end, when a final scene 
brought the house down. A last song completed 
the work of the aspiring author. When the boys 
had repeated the chorus for the third time, Dick 
begged them to halt, and stopped twanging the 
strings of his banjo. 

“Well, what’s the verdict?” he demanded, 
bravely. “Think it’s got a ghost of a show against 
Nat’s farce?” 

“The fellow who could beat that would have to 
sit up all night, and be a genius in the bargain I” 
declared Elmer, positively. 

“Why, not even a professional song and farce 
writer could equal some of the parts you’ve got in 
there 1” declared Andy Hale. “I have to rub my 
eyes and look again to believe you coulc^ originate 
so much droll stuff. And such fetching songs ! As 
for Nat, shucks! he’ll never have half a show, be- 
lieve me.” 

“And the rest of us who dared make a try will 


DICK HAS A SELECT AUDIENCE 205 


be in the also-ran class,” chuckled Phil Harkness. 

“It was mighty good, and that’s a sure thing, 
Dick!” 

Dick could not help noticing that it was Peg who 
said this. He also remembered how Peg had over- 
heard Nat reading a part of his farce to one of 
his cronies. Peg then was the only person quali- 
fied to judge between the two rival efforts, because 
he alone had heard something of each. And Peg 
was not as enthusiastic as the rest, for had he not 
only said “it was mighty good, Dick?” 

That was the fly in the ointment. It seemed to 
take away much of the pleasure and confidence that 
otherwise Dick must have obtained from hearing 
his praises sung so confidently by the rest. 

“Now you’ve heard my little farce,” he told 
them, “please don’t speak of it to me again. I 
want to forget all about it for a while. The com- 
mittee will take a week to decide which one they 
like best. When we have our next meeting their 
decision is going to be announced to the crowd, and 
then the agony will be over.” 

“Here’s wishing you every success going, Dick I” 
cried Peg, with vim. 

They slapped Dick on the back, and soon had 
him laughing heartily; though when he found him- 
self alone again he was bound to brood over the 
fact that Peg, who had heard a portion of Nat’s ef- 
fusion, had simply said Dick’s was good. 


206 THE F. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


“After all, this minstrel show is going to be only 
one thing Mr. Holwell has in mind for the boys of 
the Y. M. C. A.,” remarked Clint. “He’s plan- 
ning a lot of other affairs for the late winter; and 
I heard him say that he hoped when vacation time 
came along we might camp out somewhere, and 
have a royal good time of it.” 

“If we do,” ventured Andy, “I certainly hope he 
picks out Russabaga Lake for the trip. I’ve al- 
ways wanted to camp on that wonderful Bass Is- 
land that we’ve heard so much about. If I get a 
chance I’m going to speak to Mr. Holwell about 
it.” 

The boys sat around and talked for some lit- 
tle time, and then some of them having things they 
wanted to do started home. When Dick, being the 
last to leave, was going, Leslie smacked him on the 
back and said cheerily: 

“Make no mistake, old fellow, that farce is go- 
ing to come under the wire a winner I” 

“Thank you, Leslie,” Dick replied, and some- 
how this unflinching confidence shown by his dear- 
est and best chum helped to buoy up his spir i 
when doubts again assailed his heart. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


BAD NEWS 

‘‘Here's a letter for Grandpop Horner, Dick. 
The postman met me at the corner, and I guess he 
must have known I was headed for your house 
because he just handed it over and asked me to 
deliver it.” 

Leslie, as he said this, held up the letter in ques- 
tion. He had met Dick at the gate of the little 
Horner cottage, as the latter was about setting out 
on some errand. 

It was on the afternoon just before Christmas, 
and the winter had fully set in. There was a trace 
of snow on the ground, and the ice was in ex- 
cellent condition for skating. Doubtless many a 
young person in Cliffwood, who anticipated re- 
ceiving a new pair of skates on the following happy 
morning, was hoping that no cloud would come 
up to cover the fine sheet on the pond with snow 
before they had a chance to break in their cher- 
ished present. 

Dick took the letter and looked hard at it. 
When he saw it was addressed on a typewriter. 


207 


208 THE Y. M, C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


and that in the upper left-hand corner there was 
printed the name of a law firm in New York, some- 
how he was seized with a sense of coming trouble. 

He knew that his grandfather had his little sav- 
ings in a certain enterprise that heretofore had 
yielded fair profits. This sum of money, together 
with the pension that the Government paid the vet- 
eran, had barely sufficed to keep the wolf from the 
door of the Horner home for years. 

“I hope it isn’t bad news I’ve fetched you, 
Dick?” ventured Leslie, uneasily, for he had seen 
that frown gather on the forehead of his chum, 
and could give a pretty fair guess as to what caused 
it. 

“Oh! I hardly think that cuuld be,” replied 
Dick, trying to smile cheerily. “With Christmas 
coming tomorrow it would be pretty tough for 
grandpop to get bad news. I was only going on 
a little errand, so I’ll turn back and give it to 
him.” 

Leslie was almost as much at home in Dick’s 
humble dwelling as in his more spacious home ; so 
he did not hesitate to follow at his chum’s heels 
when the other hurried back to the door. 

“Here’s a letter for you, Grandpop,” remarked 
Dick, as he entered. 

The old veteran was sitting by the fire, droning 
over his pipe, and the paper which came in the 
morning mail. He aroused himself at the infor- 


BAD NEWS 


209 


mation, for letters were few and far between at 
the Horner home, so that the receipt of one always 
caused more or less interest. Mrs. Horner came 
in from the kitchen wiping her hands on her apron ; 
even little Sue ceased playing with her favorite 
cat, and looked up expectantly. 

Grandpop turned the letter over and over. 
Plainly he was a bit afraid to tear it open, for his 
aged hands shook visibly, and he could be seen 
pressing his lips firmly together as though sum- 
moning all his resolution to the fore. 

That imprint of a legal firm dismayed him. His 
dealings with lawyers had been few, and perhaps 
not of an altogether pleasant nature at that. Fi- 
nally, he seemed to reach a point where he could 
wait no longer, so he managed to detach a strip 
of the envelope. 

The enclosure was in typewriting like the ad- 
dress. All of the others watched grandpop ear- 
nestly as he first rubbed his glasses so as to get a 
little more time, and then started in to read the 
letter. 

Uncle Silas had been lying down on the well- 
worn sofa. He sat up and seemed to be deeply 
interested. Leslie, as usual, was watching the 
wanderer closely; possibly the boy even allowed 
himself to wonder whether sly Uncle Silas’ pres- 
ence there could have any connection with the 
coming of this mysterious missive. 


210 THE F. ilf. C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 

Then grandpop utte»*ed a low groan, though he 
tried bravely enough to crush it. 

“Oh! what is it all about, Father?” exclaimed 
Mrs. Horner, darting forward to put her support- 
ing arm about the old man, who seemed to waver 
in his seat. 

The veteran drew his quivering hand caress- 
ingly over her hair several times. He had some 
difficulty in mastering his emotions; but the old 
soldier spirit in him was not yet dead, and he suc- 
ceeded in regaining control over his nerves. 

“Bad news, Daughter, Fm sorry to say,” he 
told her. 

“Is it about your investment?” she asked, show- 
ing that she had been entertaining fears in that di- 
rection for some little time. 

“Yes, yes, that is it,” he said, as well as his 
trembling lips could form the words. “This law- 
yer tells me the company has been in difficulties 
for some time, though they kept hoping to bridge 
over their trouble. But something happened that 
they had not counted dn, and they went under with 
a smash. He says they may be able to pay thirty 
cents on the dollar, but it will take time even at 
that to realize on their properties.” 

Mrs. Horner, deeply moved, took the letter 
from his unresisting hand, and looked it over. The 
fatal news was written in a cold unfeeling fashion, 
for lawyers could not be expected to sympathize 


BAD NEWS 


211 


with unknown clients. The firm offered to act for, 
Mr. Horner in the matter for the ordinary fee, 
to be paid when any money was recovered. 

Dick and Leslie too could easily read all this. 
The former was sadly dazed, and Leslie felt 
shocked. The latter knew that the Horners had 
had little enough to live upon for some years, and 
if half of their meagre income were suddenly 
snatched away in this cruel manner, it would mean 
a serious matter. 

It was wonderful, however, how quickly the old 
man managed to recover from the blow. His one 
thought was to shield those who were so dear to 
him. 

“Well,” they heard him say bravely, “I have 
been taking my ease too long as it is, and tomor- 
row — no, the day after Christmas, I mean to start 
out and visit my friends to see if there is not some 
employment I may obtain. I used to be a good 
hand at figures, and could keep a set of books 
fairly well. Don’t worry too much Polly, dear; 
it will all come out right yet. You know they say 
it is always darkest before dawn.” 

Leslie winked a good many times even while 
he smiled at the idea of that weak old gentleman, 
who found it so difficult even to walk in the gar- 
den, striking bravely out to try to find work. 
There was a suspicious moisture in the boy’s eyes, 
for he was deeply affected. 


212 THE Y. M,C. A. BOYS OF CLIFF WOOD 


“That would be a nice thing, wouldn’t it, Grand- 
pop!” declared Dick stoutly; “for a husky fellow 
like me to keep on going to school while you 
worked in an office. I reckon it’s going to be me 
who’ll get busy, and pay for my salt. I’ve been 
thinking about just that sort of thing for some 
time. It was bound to come, and this letter has 
only hurried things along a little.” 

Leslie felt it his duty to slap his chum on the 
back when he heard this. No one knew better than 
he what a sacrifice it would mean to Dick to quit 
school; for the boy’s heart was set on securing a 
good education, since he had planned a career for 
himself that could never be attained unless he went 
to college. 

Uncle Silas had listened to all this talk in silence. 
No one seemed to remember him at all just then, 
one way or another. Even Leslie neglected to 
watch him. Had he done so he might have seen 
all sorts of emotions chasing each other across the 
weather-beaten face of the wanderer. 

“I can’t tell you how badly I feel to hear this 
sad news, Sister Polly,” he now hastened to re- 
mark, coming forward with a look of apparently 
deep interest on his countenance. “It compels me 
to say what I have been meaning to for some little 
time. I must be going on my way. You have been 
kindness itself to a poor old health-broken chap, 
the rolling-stone that could gather no moss. Now 


BAD NEWS 


213 


it is time for me to relieve you of my presence, 
which must not become a burden on your slender 
resources.” 

At that Mrs. Horner looked doubly distressed; 
while grandpop shook his white head in the nega- 
tive. 

“Please don’t speak of leaving us just yet, 
Brother,” said Dick’s mother. “All of us I am 
sure would miss your cheery ways very much. 
Father has seemed so happy with you for com- 
pany, and I began to believe he was getting 
younger every day of your stay. And you said 
you had no other home.” 

“But my dear sister, every little counts now with 
you, and I am unable to work any longer, much as 
I should like to buckle to,” remonstrated Uncle 
Silas, just as though he meant every word he 
said. 

“Oh I but what you eat does not matter much,” 
she told him, affectionately, as she laid a loving 
hand on the wanderer’s arm. “Stay with us a lit- 
tle longer, Silas, and perhaps the skies will 
brighten. I seem to have faith that the tide must 
turn soon now ; and we have been a happy family 
together, you know.” 

Uncle Silas was affected even to tears, and he 
turned aside as though ashamed of giving way to 
a weakness. Leslie saw this, but being of a skep- 
tical turn of mind, especially in connection with 


214 THE V, M. C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


everything that concerned the wanderer, he rubbed 
his chin in his odd way, and muttered to himself : 

“His eyes looked watery, all right; but mebbe 
after all they were crocodile tears. Some people 
can make themselves cry even on the stage. But 
I wonder what the old fellow’s game can be? Ohe 
thing sure, I bet you he doesn’t mean to skip out 
of the comfy nest he’s struck after all his wan- 
derings.” 

Indeed, Uncle Silas was soon exerting himself 
to raise the drooping spirits of the others, and 
even began to joke in a way he had never done be- 
fore. 

“Why should we allow ourselves to mope, and 
feel badly when tomorrow morning w’^ill be Christ- 
mas,” he told them several times. “Something 
may happen to make this old world look brighter 
to our eyes. You know what you read in the lesson, 
Grandpop — ‘weeping may endure for a night, but 
joy cometh in the morning.’ Let’s hope so, any- 
way.” 


CHAPTER XXVII 


WHAT HAPPENED ON CHRISTMAS EVE 

As the evening set in Dick felt his gloomy fears 
increase rather than diminish. It was strange, too, 
because as a general thing the boy had always been 
of a cheery disposition, and able to stand up under 
all manner of ordinary troubles. 

He was not thinking of himself at all. What 
sacrifices the new plan he had in mind entailed did 
not count in the least. It was mother, and dear 
old grandpop, Dick was so anxious about. He 
knew how in times past they had frequently been 
forced to scrimp and save in order to enjoy a few 
things they craved; and now it would be harder 
than ever to make ends meet. 

Still, Dick found that after supper had been 
dispatched he was feeling in a better humor. Per- 
haps the meal had something to do with this ; then 
again the fact that it was Christmas Eve was to 
be considered, for after all Dick was a lad whose 
spirits were buoyant. 

Perhaps, too, the way in which Uncle Silas tried 
to make them forget the new trouble may have had 


215 


216 THE F. il/. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


something to do with the change in his feelings. 
Indeed, never had the wanderer shown himself in 
such a happy mood. It seemed as though he must 
be exerting himself to the utmost with the idea 
of making the others forget. 

The stories he told of his life in the frozen 
North, where men hunted for the hidden gold 
amidst glaciers and snowbanks, were full of rol- 
licking humor. He had dear old grandpop laugh- 
ing heartily at his comical descriptions; and Dick 
confessed that having Uncle Silas there at such 
a time of distress was as good as a tonic. 

A knock at the door came about eight o’clock. 
Dick went to see who was there. As a rule, he 
would have expected to find one of his chums, or 
a neighbor; but tonight he felt nervous, and half 
anticipated discovering an unwelcome visitor in 
the shape of some officer, who would tell them 
their home was to be attached for debt. 

“Good evening to ye, Dick,” said a voice. “Mr. 
Nocker he says I am to give ye this same pack- 
age, which is from his daughter, and little Billy.” 

“Oh I is it you, Pat?” remarked Dick, consid- 
erably relieved. “All right. I’ll take it in; and be 
sure to tell them all we send them a lot of thanks 
for remembering us, and hope they’ll have a real 
Merry Christmas.” 

It was quite a package, and Dick laughed as he 
placed it on the table. 


WHAT HAPPENED CHRISTMAS EVE 217 


“To think of them remembering the Horners 
at Christmas,” he remarked, as she stared at the 
package. “I guess after all it isn’t going to be such 
a dull time for some of us. Shall I open it now. 
Mother, or leave it till the morning?” 

“Suit yourself. Son,” she told him. “Many peo- 
ple give their gifts the night before Christmas; 
and perhaps you’ll sleep better if you see what it 
contains now.” 

“Well, I believe I’ll just have to do it,” said 
Dick, with which he soon whipped the heavy cord 
off the package. 

“Looks like a new suit of clothes for some- 
body!” chuckled Uncle Silas. 

Dick snatched up the coat, and examined it. A 
small tag bore some writing, and he saw that it 
was a pretty card decorated with red Christmas 
flowers, and bearing a few words which he read 
aloud : 

“To Dick, from little Billy, wishing him 

the happiest Christmas of his whole life!** 

“Oh! but ought I take such a thing from them, 
when Mr. Nocker is the one who will have to pay 
the bill?” said Dick, wonderingly. 

“Why not?” demanded Uncle Silas, promptly. 
“If he sent you a dozen such presents he could 
never begin to pay back the debt he owes you. 


218 THE F. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


Didn’t you plan the scheme that gave him the 
treasures he now has in his gloomy old mansion? 
And only for your bravery and quick action might 
he not have lost them both in that fire? Don’t 
you hesitate for a minute, Dick, to accept this lit- 
tle gift.” 

“But here’s something more, and for you. 
Mother !” exclaimed the boy, excitedly. 

It proved to be a nice warm fleecy worsted shawl 
for her shoulders. And a third package turned 
out to be a delightful smoking jacket for the old 
veteran, in which he would find great joy and com- 
fort as he sat by the open fire winter days. 

All of them were delighted with their gifts. 
Uncle Silas pretended to be quite disappointed be- 
cause he too had not been remembered. 

“Seems like I’m the only one left out in the 
cold,” he laughed, merrily. “But then I’m a new 
comer here, and haven’t any right to expect much. 
Perhaps if I hung up my stocking tonight, like we 
used to do when we were youngsters, Polly, old 
Santa Claus might take a notion to slip just a little 
remembrance in the same. Now, just for luck, 
let’s all do it. It brings back happy days to even 
speak of such a thing. And for once let’s for- 
get trouble as though we were children again.” 

His sister smiled, a little sadly it must be con- 
fessed. 

“If it will please you, Silas,” she told him, 


WHA T HAPPENED CHRISTMAS E VE 219 

“we will agree; though no one must expect much. 
Our intentions are tremendous, but sad to say we 
are hampered by conditions that tie our hands. 
But even a little gift may carry worlds of love with 
it.” 

Dick had provided a small tree, and they all 
sat up late decorating it. Even old grandpop in- 
sisted on tying a few baubles to the branches, in 
memory of the days when he used to do the same 
for the children who were now gone. 

Little Susie had of course been put to bed be- 
fore this, for the tree was mainly intended for her 
delight; though the others found more or less 
pleasure in its decoration. 

And there wrre five stockings hung up alongside 
the fireplace; Susie had insisted on fastening one 
borrowed from her mother, since she naively re- 
marked that her own might be too small for what 
the good fairies meant to bring her, and she would 
not want to miss anything for lack of room. 

After Dick went to his little room and retired, 
he lay there a long time, utterly unable to lose him- 
self in sleep. The blow that had fallen that after- 
noon had given him a shock, and try as he would 
he could not get it out of his mind. 

Lying there he could see through his open door 
the flickering of the firelight in the living-room be- 
yond, where the little Christmas tree stood in all 
ts brave finery. When the blaze came up he could 


220 THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


even count the five stockings hanging there, each 
with something in it, for they had contrived to do 
this before separating for the night. 

Dick sighed many times. He somehow was 
thinking of that golden prize which Mr. Holwell' 
had offered for the best farce, and which would 
be awarded a few nights after Christmas. If only 
he had won that there were so many things he 
had planned to buy with the tweny-five dollars that 
would have made the Great Day seem so much 
more joyful. 

Dick, lying there, suddenly became aware of 
the fact that some one was moving in the other 
room. He even half raised his head to look, and 
when the fire picked up a little, discovered that it 
was Uncle Silas. 

“To be sure,” Dick told himself, “I remember 
now that he didn’t think to put anything in the 
stockings when we turned in, and he’s meaning to 
do that now. But the poor old chap has mighty 
little to spare. Still, half a dollar given in the 
right spirit would mean as much as a thousand 
times the same from a rich man.” 

Dick felt enough curiosity to watch Uncle Silas. 
He saw the wanderer fumbling with the different 
stockings. He even had the assurance to pull out 
what they contained and glance at the small offer- 
ings. When Dick saw that he seemed to be moved 
by some emotion, he himself felt a little annoyed. 


WHAT HAPPENED CHRISTMAS EVE 221 


“I hope now he isn’t laughing at what we’ve 
given him,” he muttered half under his breath. 
“He’s certainly as full of curiosity as a youngster 
waking up in the moonlight, and creeping out of 
bed to see what Santa has left for him; and that’s 
what I did once myself. There, he’s satisfied now, 
anyway, and is trotting off to his cot again.” 

After that Dick again set himself the task of 
trying to get to sleep, though he found it the hard- 
est kind of work. Even this latest strange action 
on the part of Uncle Silas worried him. He re- 
membered all that Leslie had ever said about the 
wanderer. Could it be possible that Uncle Silas 
was an impostor; or that he had actually planned 
to come and settle down on his poor sister, to be 
taken care of for the balance of his natural life? 

“Oh! shucks! forget all that stuff, can’t you?” 
Dick scolded himself as he turned once more with 
his back to the open door, so as to shut out the 
flickering firelight. “Uncle Silas is all right, and 
you know it. He’s only a little queer in the upper 
story. You know he told how he was struck on 
the head once by a falling rock, and nearly killed. 
Now go to sleep, so you’ll feel fresh when morn- 
ing comes.” 

Nevertheless, it must have been close on to mid- 
night when Dick finally managed to drop off. 
What his dreams were no one ever knew, but at 
least he did sleep until the sun was above the hori- 


222 THE Y. M, C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


zon on that bright Christmas morning, which was 
something unusual for him, as he always attended 
to the chores promptly in order to save the little 
mother steps. 

So Dick hastily dressed, his mind beginning to 
fill once more with a confusion of anxieties and 
hopes, as all that had taken place on the previous 
afternoon and evening trooped through his active 
brain. 

“Tomorrow I’ll begin to look for a situation,” 
he was saying as he finished his dressing. “Per- 
haps better days will be coming along later on, 
when I can complete my education. I can hear 
mother in the kitchen ; perhaps she may need some- 
thing, so I’ll find out.” 

“Nothing to be done. Son,” Mrs. Horner an- 
nounced, after kissing him warmly, and returning 
his greeting of a Merry Christmas. “But I hear 
some one knocking at the front door, so go and an- 
swer, for I think I saw Leslie pass the kitchen 
window.” 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


UNCLE SILAS, THE WIZARD 

“Hello ! there I Merry Christmas to you, Dick, 
old chum!” exclaimed Leslie, as he pushed in 
through the door as soon as it was opened. 
“Here’s a little something I know you’ve been 
wanting this long while.” 

“Oh, my stars 1 a pair of dandy hockey skates 1” 
gasped the astonished Dick, as he tore the paper 
from the package that had been thrust into his 
hands. “You’ve just about knocked me silly, Les- 
lie, for a fact. And my present to you is such a 
little one, too.” 

“Little I” echoed the other, holding up the book 
he had taken from its wrappings. “Why, I’ve been 
meaning to get this for over half a year. And the 
best of it is you earned every cent it cost, while I 
had most of my money from my folks. It’s worth 
ten times as much as what I paid for the skates, 
every time, and don’t you forget it.” 

“The finest skates I ever saw,” said Dick, joy- 
ously, as he again examined his present. “I can 


223 


224 THE F. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


see what bully times Til have this winter — that 
is of nights, after I get home from work.” 

“Oh! rats! don’t say that as if you meant it, 
Dick. If you leave school I’ll never have the heart 
to keep on to graduation time. You know how 
we planned to stick together through thick and 
thin. I’ll ask dad to let me start working, too, 
see if I don’t.” 

“That would be silly of you,” Dick told him. 
“But let’s try to forget it all, for one more day. 
Time enough to bother when tomorrow comes.” 

“What’s this I see!” exclaimed Leslie, humor- 
ously. “Five stockings hung up in a row; and 
here’s little Susie beginning to look into hers, after 
she’s done staring at the gay tree. What luck did 
you have, Dick?” 

“Oh! I hadn’t thought to look yet,” admitted 
the other. “In fact, I overslept, and had just gone 
into the kitchen to see if I could help mother with 
breakfast when you knocked on the door.” 

He stepped over to the mantel, gave the fire 
some attention to start it to burning briskly again, 
and was about to take hold of the stocking that 
had been hung up for him when he stopped short. 

Something was peeping above the one his 
mother had hung up for herself, and into which 
Dick had managed to cram the present he had 
purchased for her. It looked like a formidable 
document to Dick too, and somehow the sight of 


UNCLE SILAS, THE WIZARD 225 


it gave him a cold shiver, as though he feared new 
developments that might mean more trouble. 

“I wonder what it is,” he muttered, uneasily; 
and then overcome by curiosity, he reached forth 
his hand, and boldly drew the document out. 

Leslie too leaned forward as Dick gazed at the 
paper which he now knew Uncle Silas must have 
placed there after all the rest had retired. 

“Oh, my stars!” ejaculated Leslie, shrilly. 
“It’s a real Government bond, don’t you see, Dick, 
with your mother’s full name on it, and for — why, 
I must be dreaming — ten thousand dollars 

Dick uttered a loud cry that seemed to come 
from the depths of his overcharged heart. As if 
the shout had been a signal to draw them, the little 
mother came hurrying in from the kitchen, while 
grandpop made his appearance, cane in hand, his 
room being close at hand. 

“What’s the matter, Dick?” questioned Mr^s. 
Horner, looking deeply interested. 

“Leslie fetched you a present, did he?” de- 
manded, the veteran as his eyes fell upon the glis- 
tening hockey skates lying neglected now on the 
table. 

Dick could not say a word, but he thrust the 
wond( rful paper into the hands of his mother. 
Her t yes drank in the printed form on the out- 
side, with her name plainly inscribed as the owner 
of the bond. 


226 THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


“What does it mean, Son?” she asked, weakly. 
“I don’t seem able to understand.” 

“Why, it’s a Christmas present for you, Mrs. 
Horner, from Uncle Silas,” explained Leslie, only 
too desirous of making immediate amends for all 
his base suspicions of the past. “He’s waited his 
time, and sprung the greatest surprise I ever heard 
of on you all. Bully for Uncle Silas, I say; he*s 
all right!” 

“What’s this you’re saying about me?” asked 
a voice, and the wanderer appeared in view, his 
weather-beaten face wreathed in a broad smile of 
happiness and contentment. “They say listeners 
never hear any good of themselves. Tell me to 
my face if you dare.” 

Polly looked at him almost helplessly. Then 
she raised the precious Government bond, with the 
magic figures printed upon it. 

“What — where — how — oh! Silas, how could 
you deceive us so, and let us believe you poor and 
homeless, when you were a rich man all the 
while?” 

Thereupon Uncle Silas gathered the little 
woman into his arms, and, kissing her fondly, went 
on to solve the mystery. 

“Well,” he proceeded to explain, seeing that 
they were all consumed with natural curiosity, 
“after losing three fortunes through being too 
greedy, I finally got hold of a claim that I sold for 


UNCLE SILAS, THE WIZARD 227 

fifty thousand dollars cash. By that time I was in 
fact broken in health, so I firmly determined to 
hunt up any relatives I might have left, and if they 
proved to be the right sort, stay with them the 
balance of my life, leaving them all I had in re- 
turn.” 

“And you were playing a sly game on us all the 
while, you rogue!” remarked the old veteran, as 
he grasped the wanderer’s extended hand, and 
squeezed it heartily. 

“Can you blame me in one way?” demanded 
Uncle Silas. “I wanted to be very sure that I was 
being received for myself alone, and not because 
I was worth that much money. Of course, I soon 
learned that there were hearts of true gold under 
this humble roof, and that I would never be al- 
lowed to leave it. But it pleased me to persist in 
my assumed role until this happy morning came.” 

“And true enough, as you said, ‘weeping may 
endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morn- 
ing!’ ” cried Mrs. Horner, with her sisterly arms 
about his neck. “Surely the clouds did not last 
long, and the dawn seems all the more beautiful 
because of that letter yesterday.” 

“It’s the greatest Christmas that ever was!” 
cried Dick, as he too hung on to the hand of Uncle 
Silas. “How glad I am to know that after all I 
needn’t give up my schooling yet.” 

“You are a fine lad, and I’m proud to have you 


228 THE Y, M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


for my nephew,” said Uncle Silas, heartily. 
“Please Heaven you shall go to college, and find 
your true place in a world that needs just such fel- 
lows as you. There will be no reason for any of 
the dear ones under this roof to face want again, 
for I have enough for all, and what is mine is 
yours. You offered me a home when you believed 
me poor and sick. I have proved your hearts by 
deeds; after this we will find true happiness to- 
gether here.” 

Dick could hardly eat a morsel of breakfast, he 
was so excited. Several times he even asked 
Leslie, who stayed to the meal with them, to pinch 
him, for he felt he really must be dreaming, and 
that on being aroused the amazing event would 
prove to be only an illusion. 

But the sight of that wonderful Government 
bond on the mantel always gave him renewed hope 
and strengthened his wavering faith. 

“After all, I guess this has been a glorious day 
for you, old fellow,” Leslie was saying, as he 
donned his outer coat, and prepared to run over 
home so as to carry the delightful news. 

“I never saw the sky look so blue before in 
all my life,” the other boy admitted. “And listen 
to the church bells ringing, will you? It seems to 
me they must know all that’s happened here, and 
are singing just as my heart’s doing right now. 
I’m the happiest fellow in Cliffwood; and I ought 


ukCLE SILAS, THE WIZARD 229 

to get out so as to try to make some other chap 
feel a little the same way by doing him a good 
turn.” 

“My mother will be just tickled half to death,” 
asserted Leslie. “She’s been doing little save talk 
about your trouble ever since I told her, trying to 
figure out how she could help you all without of- 
fending you. I just can’t stay any longer because 
I want to tell her the big news. Hurrah for Uncle 
Silas, say I ! He’s turned out to be a regular 
trump ! And how he did fool me in the bargain I” 

With that Leslie hurried away, only turning to 
wave his hand at his chum, and shout out : 

“Everything’s headed your way at last, Dick; 
and I bet you five cents against a cookey that fine 
farce of yours is bound to take the prize Mr. Hol- 
well’s offering. Nat may try all he wants, but he 
can’t fight against such luck as has set in toward 
the Horners. Mark my words, will you?” 

Dick only laughed in reply as he closed the door, 
and once more went in to make sure the amazing 
paper still stood there on the mantel in the liv- 
ing room. If he took it in his hands and examined 
the precious document once that morning, he did a 
dozen times ; though finally Mrs. Horner thought 
it best to place it securely away in a receptacle 
where she kept the few little valuables she pos- 
sessed. 

Toward the middle of the morning, Dick, re- 


230 THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


membering his new hockey skates, managed to tear 
himself away from the little house where so much 
happiness was concentrated, and go forth to seek 
the big pond, with the intention of testing the steel 
runners. 

And during that day the boy sought and found 
some fellow who had been utterly forgotten by the 
patron saint of Christmas, upon whom he bestowed 
his other skates, as well as something in the shape 
of money. Dick’s heart was overflowing with 
gratitude for the amazing good fortune that had 
come to his home ; and this, according to his mind, 
was the only way in which he could pass the good 
cheer along. 


CHAPTER XXIX 


THE END OF THE STRUGGLE 

The time had finally come when the committee 
appointed to judge the several farces entered in 
the competition for the prize, met to complete their 
part of the proceedings. 

Every fellow who belonged to the Boys’ Depart- 
ment of the prosperous Y. M. C. A., as well as 
many of the girls, were on the tiptoe of excitement. 
While the vast majority of them firmly believed 
that Dick was sure to be the successful candidate 
for honors, there were others who seemed confi- 
dent that Nat would come in a winner. 

“I understand,” said Elmer Jones, as the boys 
began to gather that evening in the hall, where the 
choice was to be duly announced, “that the com- 
mittee is now in session in another part of the 
building, and having the best of the farces read 
aloud by Mr. Parkhurst, who once upon a time 
used to be a public reader.” 

“Sure thing,” added Peg Fosdick. “And Pll 
tell you a little secret in the bargain. Never mind 


231 


232 THE r. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


how I came to know it, but you can depend on it 
for a fact.” 

“Pitch right in then, Peg I” urged one of those 
clustered around the two. 

“It takes Peg to get on the track of things,” 
laughed another. 

“Listen then,” Peg went on softly, in his mys- 
terious way. “While Mr. Holwell, you under- 
stand, isn’t on the committee, he has been asked 
to join them. I saw him going through just a lit- 
tle while back.” 

“Whew! I wonder what that can mean?” re- 
marked Phil Harkness. 

“Mebbe there’s some sort of hitch, and they 
need an umpire to decide it,” suggested Clint Bab- 
bett. 

“Either that,” went on Peg, with a wink, first 
at Dick, and then toward Nat, both of whom were 
in the bunch, “or else it’s a neck and neck race be- 
tween a couple of well known junior residents of 
Cliffwood, and they’re looking for some reason to 
penalize one of the contestants.” 

“You’re all wrong,” spoke up Andy H^le. “Lis- 
ten to me. Remember that little anecdote about 
the sailor and the soldier. Some one wanted to 
know which could give the time of day best. One 
fellow said the soldier ought to, because he so 
often had to mark time. But the answer was that 
the sailor must be best qualified to tell, for the sim- 


THE END OF THE STRUGGLE 233 


pie reason that he had been to sea. Well, Fm the 
Jack Tar, and Fve been on the job.” 

“Then why was Mr. Holwell called into the 
room with the committee?” demanded Nat, bold- 
ly; and those who were close to him could see that 
he looked plainly concerned, as though the sus- 
pense might be wearing heavily on him; while, on 
the other hand, Dick seemed utterly unconcerned, 
for the money part of the prize no longer appealed 
to him as before his recent good fortune. 

“Why, it seems that the committee have de- 
cided on what they believe to be the greatest farce 
of the lot, as well as the one that’s second best. 
To make sure of their ground, they thought it 
only right Mr. Howell should hear the prize ef- 
fort. Seems that it must be a stunner, that’s near- 
ly taken their breath away.” 

At that Nat chuckled, and threw out his chest. 

“You wouldn’t believe me, you fellows,” he re- 
marked, loftily; “but just wait and see. I reckon 
you’ll change your minds some before long.” 

“Yep,” added Dit Hennesy, boastfully, “nobody 
suspected that there was a budding genius alivin’ 
here right in old Cliffwood. You’ll all admit, after 
you hear his dandy farce read, that Nat’s got the 
goods. All the rest’ll have to take his dust when 
he travels along the road.” 

“Look! there’s Mr. Holwell going out again!” 
exclaimed Elmer. 


234 THE Y. M.C, A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


“And he’s mighty serious looking too, make a 
note of it I” added Peg. 

“I wonder what’s up ?” remarked Andy. “They 
must have bumped up against a snag of some 
kind.” 

Leslie chanced to be looking toward Nat just 
when Andy said this, and he saw the other give a 
big start. His face went several degrees whiter 
too, which was rather a singular thing in the case 
of an expectant winner. 

“Gee! I wonder now, is Nat up to any of his 
old tricks?” was the thought that flashed through 
the brain of Leslie as he noticed this. 

Nat must have taken a firm grip of himself, for 
the pallor quickly gave way to his customary ruddy 
hue. He watched the door until the minister again 
came into the building. Mr. Holwell was carry- 
ing something in his hand which he had evidently 
gone to his home to get. 

“Looks like it might be a roll of manuscript, 
too,” suggested Peg, humorously. “Wouldn’t it 
be queer if Mr. Holwell had entered as a con- 
testant for his own prize?” 

“You’re away ofl in your guess,” ventured Clint 
Babbett ; “for when he passed us I could plainly see 
that it was a printed paper booklet, and one that 
looked as if it might be an old relic of his minstrel 
days 1” 

Nat shrank back, and said nothing; but when 


THE END OF THE STRUGGLE 235 


Leslie glanced curiously that way, he discovered 
that once more the color had fled from the cheeks 
of the boaster. 

“Ginger!” muttered Leslie to himself, “I won- 
der what ails Nat anyway? He’s acting just as if 
he was in mortal fear of something jumping at 
him.” 

Minutes passed, and more people continued to 
arrive, the big room beginning to fill up, for a great 
deal of interest was being taken in the awarding 
of the prize. So much had been said from time to 
time about the keen competition, that the excite- 
ment among the boys and girls was at white heat. 

Even Mr. Loft, the librarian, whose superior 
airs had so offended the boys of the town, had 
condescended to grace the affair with his presence, 
though never before had he been known to attend 
a meeting like this. 

“I’m beginning to have some hopes that in time 
Mr. Loft will grow to be really human,” Leslie 
was saying to his mates, when he spied the cul- 
tured librarian in a seat not far away. “He’s find- 
ing out that to know and understand boys he’s just 
got to mingle with them.” 

“Mr. Holwell does that,” observed another boy, 
and that is why all of us are ready to do any- 
thing he asks us. We know that he’s always think- 
ing of helping a fellow who’s backward, or in 
trouble.” 


236 THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


“Here comes Harry Bartlett straight this way I” 
exclaimed Peg. 

“Isn’t he one of the three committeemen who 
were appointed to judge the farces?” demanded a 
boy. 

“Of course he is,” replied Peg. “And since 
they’ve run up against a snag p’raps he’s after 
Dick here to ask a question or so.” 

Dick laughed in a free and easy manner. In- 
deed, he would have been only too willing to an- 
swer a score of questions just then, for his mind 
was perfectly free from all sources of anxiety. 

“You are wanted in the committee room, Nat!” 
said Harry Bartlett, shortly. 

“Who — me? What for?” asked Nat, in a 
trembling voice. 

“Never mind until you get there,” replied the 
other sharply. “I was asked to bring you back 
with me; that’s all I can say,” with which words 
the leader of the Y. M. C. A. turned and retraced 
his steps. 

Nat tried to grin, for he knew that every eye 
just then was fastened on him. But the attempt 
was not much of a success. He arose to his feet 
and shuffled after the messenger of the committee. 
The rest of the boys gaped as they saw the door 
of the committee room close on him. 

“Whew! I wonder what’s doing?” ventured 
Clint. 


THE END OF THE STRUGGLE 237 


“Ten to one Nat’s been up to some crooked 
work again,” said Peg. 

“You’d like to believe so, wouldn’t you?” sneer- 
ed Dit Hennesy, who, however, had a half alarmed 
look on his sallow face. “Chances are the com- 
mittee want to congratulate Nat privately on his 
genius before they make the public announce- 
ment.” 

“Sure!” jeered Peg. “And Nat must have be- 
lieved that too, even if he did look like a criminal 
being led to the execution block when he left us 
just now. Watch and see what happens.” 

Ten minutes passed away. Then the door 
opened again, and Nat came out. He was holding 
his head up, and grinning, but they could see what 
an effort it cost him to put on such a bold, reck- 
less face. 

To the astonishment of the boys, and the dismay 
of Dit, Nat, instead of rejoining them, waved his 
hand derisively, and quitted the building. 

“Say, something must have busted in there!” 
exclaimed Peg, excitedly. 

“Huh! looks like the jig was up,” grunted Dit; 
and presently he, too, was among the missing. 

“There come the committee and they’re headed 
for the stage!” said Clint. “Now the suspense 
will soon be over, for Harry Bartlett is going to 
announce the finding of the judges.” 

The crowded room became as still as death 


238 THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


when the leader of the Y. M. C. A. commenced 
to speak in his ready fashion. 

“My friends, I am about to announce the ver- 
dict of the committee appointed to serve as judges 
in this contest arranged by Mr. Holwell. We did 
our duty faithfully, and every farce submitted was 
read carefully by all of us. Then on taking a vote 
it was found that all must be eliminated save two, 
both of which evinced positive merit. 

“A second vote disclosed the fact that the ma- 
jority of the committee believed one of these to 
have more merit than the other, though the names 
of the contestants were unknown to us at the time. 
In order that we should do no boy an injustice it 
was decided to invite Mr. Holwell, whose ability 
in that line you all know, to come in to hear these 
two farces read by Mr. Parkhurst. 

“When Mr. Holwell heard the leading farce 
read, he looked serious, and asked that the one 
that stood second choice should also be given. 
Then he requested us to wait while he went home 
and rooted through an old trunk where he kept 
some mementoes of the old days when he once took 
part in a minstrel show, before he thought of 
studying for the ministry. 

“When he came back he brought with him a 
printed farce, published many years ago, and in 
which he remembered once acting. No sooner 
had he commenced reading this than we realized 


THE END OF THE STRUGGLE 239 


that the one we had selected as the winner had 
been copied almost word for word from the 
printed playlet. 

“The pretended author was called in, and when 
accused, readily admitted practicing the deceit, 
though he stoutly claimed it was only done for a 
joke, and that he would not have accepted the 
money prize. He has been reprimanded, and has 
departed with his stolen effort. I need hardly tell 
you his name, for most of you can already guess it. 

“Of course, after that there was no difficulty in 
deciding on the farce that was plainly entitled to 
the prize; and I have great pleasure in announcing 
to you that the twenty-five dollars in gold, together 
with the congratulations of the judges, go to Rich- 
ard Horner for his original black-face farce en- 
titled When Erastus Came Home, which I trust 
all of you will have the pleasure of hearing in the 
town hall two weeks from tonight. I thank you.” 

His last words were drowned in a roar of cheers 
that went up from the boys. Those who could 
reach Dick shook his hands unmercifully; others 
slapped him on the back, as they showered con- 
gratulations on him. 


CHAPTER XXX 


CONCLUSION 

When the two weeks had elapsed, the town 
hall was crowded to its utmost capacity with one 
of the finest audiences that had ever been seen in 
Cliffwood. Of course, Uncle Silas, Grandpop 
Horner, Dick’s mother and little sister Susie 
were present to see how the boys who participated 
in the minstrels carried out their various parts, and 
Mr. Nocker also came, accompanied by his daugh- 
ter-in-law. 

The Y. M. C. A. boys had rehearsed faith- 
fully, under the supervision of Mr. Holwell, who 
must have had a revival of his old-time interest 
when he coached the amateur performers. 

Dick was one of the end men, and Peg played 
the part of his rival at the other extremity of the 
line. If the jokes which ran through the first part 
of the entertainment caused considerable hilarity 
in the audience some of the credit was due to the 
ability shown by these two performers. 

Then followed other features of the show, and 
in one of these Dick was enabled to display his 


240 



THE MUCH-TALKED-OF FARCE WOUND UP THE EVENING’S 

ENTERTAINMENT. 

The Y. M. C. A. Boys of Cliffwood 


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CONCLUSION 


241 


really wonderful powers as an amateur ventrilo- 
quist, playing the banjo during the same turn 
quite cleverly. 

The much-talked-of farce wound up the even- 
ing’s entertainment, and every one agreed that it 
was about as humorous a sketch as they had ever 
heard or read. Even Nat was to be seen in the 
audience, his customary grin adorning his bold 
face; and it was quite evident that he had come 
out to hear what sort of thing Dick had originated 
to compete against his own stolen effort. 

In the commencement of the evening Harry 
Bartlett had made an announcement to the effect 
that the entertainment was to be repeated for two 
successive nights. 

“The receipts are to be devoted to several pur- 
poses connected with this new branch of the Y. M. 
C. A.,” he went on to state; “one of which I am 
pleased to say will be the extending of the Boys’ 
Library, which already contains over one hundred 
volumes of books written by such authors as the 
boys love. All of these books have been approved 
by a capable censor, Mr. Holwell, who knows what 
a boy should read better than any other person in 
Cliffwood.” 

As Harry made this broad statement there was 
a sudden whirlwind of applause for a full minute 
that must have cheered the heart of the minister; 
nor would the boys stop clapping their hands until 


242 THE F. M. C. A. BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 


from his corner, where he had hoped to remain 
unobserved, Mr. Holwell was forced to stand up, 
and, waving his hand, smilingly say: 

“Thank you all, a thousand times. I would 
rather be reckoned a true friend of the boys of 
Cliffwood than to conquer a kingdom. And to 
the older persons present, some of whom may 
have entertained doubts about the success of our 
latest movement to interest our lads in clean sports 
and indoor entertainments, I wish to say, watch 
the streets these nights, and compare things with 
what they were six months ago. That is all.” 

When the farce had finally come to an end 
amidst uproarious laughter, there was no dispo- 
sition on the part of the audience to disperse im- 
mediately. 

“They want you, Dick!” said Leslie, behind the 
curtain. 

“Listen to ’em calling your name I” added Peg, 
delightedly. “The fellows are shouting it in con- 
cert, just as they do the school yell at the football 
games.” 

“You’ve got to step out before the curtain and 
say a few words, or they’ll pull the house down,” 
Elmer told the laughing and excited author of the 
piece. 

“I’d rather take a licking, but I suppose I’ll 
just have to do it,” Dick went on to say, with a 
shrug of his shoulders. 


CONCLUSION 


243 


When, black face and all, Dick made his ap- 
pearance before the curtain, there was a tumult- 
uous shout, after which all became quiet, as they 
listened for what he would say. Fortunately, Dick 
was not so bashful that he lost command of his 
tongue. Besides, he could see that little mother 
sitting there so proudly watching him; yes, and 
closer up there was Connie Swazy too, with her 
eyes sparkling and her little hands clapping vig» 
orously. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” began Dick, bravely, 
“it is very kind of you to give a poor struggling 
author so much encouragement in his first effort. 
I did the best I could, and I hope you got your 
money’s worth from the entertainment as a whole. 
We mean to try to do a heap better tomorrow 
night, so ask your friends to attend, if one dose is 
all you can stand.” 

“Hear ! hear !” cried a crowd of the boys seated 
close to the stage. 

“And there’s just one thing more,” continued 
Dick, casting a roguish look in the direction of 
Connie, who instantly shook her finger, at the 
same time turning rosy red. “I noticed that you 
seemed to enjoy the original airs to which my poor 
songs were sung. They were composed by Miss 
Connie Swazy, and I 'believe will be whistled by 
every boy in Cliffwood for a long time to come. 
That’s all I’ve got to say. Thank you.” 


244 THE F. M.C, A. BOYS OF CLIFF WOOD 


Everybody voted the affair a huge success. If 
the other two nights did as well there would be 
a substantial sum put in the bank for the Junior 
Department of the local Y. M. C. A., which would 
purchase much needed equipment in the gymna- 
sium, as well as many new books quoted on the fall 
lists of city publishers. 

As was to be expected there was an influx of 
new members at once, and Mr. Holwell realized 
that he had made no mistake in getting up the en- 
tertainment with the object of arousing fresh inter- 
est in the work he was doing. 

“And the best part of it all is,” remarked Dick, 
as he and several others talked over matters one 
afternoon when on the way home from school, 
“we’re going to have a glorious time week after 
week from now on, what with the lectures, the 
gymnasium nights, the regular meetings, and all 
the fun that’s in store for us.” 

“Yes,” added Leslie, “Mr. Holwell never knows 
when to stop once he gets started doing things for 
boys. My Uncle Henry is interesting old Mr. 
Nocker in some new scheme right now. They 
won’t give me a hint of what it is; but I’ve got a 
suspicion it has to do with a grand big outing for 
next summer. Why, the old deacon is a different 
man nowadays from what he used to be! That 
coming of little Billy put new life in him, let me 
tell you 1” 


CONCLUSION 


245 


“No matter what they’re planning ahead for 
us,” said Dick, “one thing we know, and that is the 
biggest event that ever happened for the boys of 
Cliffwood came out of that fierce Hallowe’en joke 
of Nat Silmore’s. Mr. Holwell says it was the 
stepping stone that led to his thinking up the Jun- 
ior League of the Y. M. C. A.” 

“I only wish every town had a man like Mr. 
Holwell in it, who knew boys from the ground 
up,” ventured Peg Fosdick, vehemently. “And all 
the same I’d give something to learn what sort of 
good time they’re fixing up for us.” 

Perhaps Peg would have had his curiosity satis- 
fied had he been able to read the title of the next 
story in this series, which will be, “The Y. M. C. 
A. Boys on Bass Island; or The Mystery of Russa- 
baga Camp.” In that volume we shall see how 
Jed Nocker came to the front in a most unexpected 
manner; and what his offer to the Y. M. C. A. 
boys led to. 

Dick was very happy when he looked at the five 
shining five-dollar gold pieces which the committee 
had handed over to him. 

“Now I’ve got my own new suit of clothes,” he 
said to Leslie, “I am going to buy something for 
mother and little Susie. And five dollars is going 
to the good of every boy in the Y. M. C. A.” 

“What do you mean by that, Dick?” his chum 
asked him. 


246 THE Y, M. C. A, BOYS OF CLIFFWOOD 

“I am going to buy books with it for our Li- 
brary — cracking good stories that all the boys will 
like.” 

“Hurrah ! Dick, that will be fine I” 

And here, for the time being, let us bid farewell 
to the Y. M. C. A. Boys of Cliffwood. 


THE END 


The Y.M.C.A. Boys Series 

By BROOKS HENDERLEY 

12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume, 60 cents, postpaid. 


This new series relates the doings of a 
wide-awake boys” club of the Y. M. C. A., 
full of good times and every-day, practi- 
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be read by every boy. 


The Y. M. C. a. Boys of cliffwood 

or The Struggle for the Holwell Prise 

Telling how the boys of Cliffwood were a wild set and how, 
on Hallowe”en, they turned the home town topsy-turvy. This 
led to an organization of a boys’ department in the local 
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or The Mystery of Russabaga Camp 

Summer was at hand, and at a meeting of the boys of the 
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By RAYMOND SPERRY, Jr. 

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(.Trade Mark, Reg. U. S. Pat. Of.) 

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The Motor Boys Series 

{Trade Mark, Reg. U. S. Pat. Of.) 

By CLARENCE YOUNG 

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The Motor Boys 

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